


In the light of the dawn

by Delirious_Chaos



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Freelancer AU, Its been rewritten as well with some minor editing and additions, M/M, OC Centred story, Reds and blues are freelancers, This is a repost from an old account, Will add more tags when needed, in-depth description of medical procedures and trauma, mostly - Freeform, not a lot but the main character is a medic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-08 13:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 111,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious_Chaos/pseuds/Delirious_Chaos
Summary: Agent West Australia is the new medic on-board the Mother of Invention, working to keep the Freelancers out of trouble. Sometimes, the trouble is a lot closer than people realise.This is a freelancer AU, where the Blood Gulch crew are Freelancers. It's set roughly around the flashbacks during season 9/10, but does not follow the story exactly. Warnings and whatnot will be posted when needed!
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
So this is actually a story I started a couple years ago, before I finished school and life caught up to me. I've been thinking of going back to this for a while now, and watching the new seasons finally motivated me to get back to writing. I'm also in the middle of my exams, but shhh, who says I'm procrastinating? I'm posting an edited version of the story here, since I'm an idiot and can't get back onto my old account. The OC's present in the story are the characters my friends and I created when in school, and I'm looking forward to fixing my story up!  
Anyway, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy!  
Thanks,   
Catherine

The Mother of Invention. By god, it was a monstrous ship. As the pelican slowly approached the grey, hulking behemoth, the woman being carried inside smiled. She’d seen bigger ships before; of course, working as a field army medic-slash-nurse during the ongoing Covenant War meant that she’d seen much bigger and survived much worse. But it still excited her, seeing the huge ship.

_My new home. _

Of course, it wasn’t going to be all play and no work. The woman had been selected for the special program based on her skill with melee weapons and, of course, her extensive medical skills – she was an experienced battle medic with an extensive knowledge of the human body and injuries. She was going to become the on-board nurse for the Agents, and when missions were being conducted, the medic. She hadn’t had a proper debrief to what sort of missions their crew would be going on, but she supposed that she’d find out once she landed and got to ask her questions.

The woman sighed, glancing down at her slacks. Grey and dull, they made her blend in with the inside of the pelican. She was supposed to have been given a new suit of armour, but apparently there had been a delay, and as such, would receive it once they landed. She already had her new code name: Agent West Australia. It was where she had been born, anyway. According to the few documents she _did _have of the program, the other agents were named after the United States. She’d been given a choice. That had been hers.

_“All passengers, we’ll be docking in a few minutes. So get your stuff ready and don’t leave anything behind ‘cause you won’t be getting it back.”_

West snorted. She didn’t have much, anyway, only a few belongings that she had been lugging around for the past few years. A photo of her family, her dog tags, a few books and her favourite necklace. It had been a present from her family on her 16th birthday. Black cord, with a silver charm, West wore it everywhere she went, along with her dog tags. She sighed and shook her head. No point in getting sentimental when there was so much else to focus on.

She lent back, closed her eyes, and waited for the pelican to dock.

A few jolting minutes later, the pelican had completed its landing sequence and allowed the wide, metal doors to slide open. West squinted. It was very bright in the hanger compared to the dim inside of her transport. When she managed to focus again, she noticed two men standing side by side at the entrance to the pelican. The darker skinned one – the Counsellor, if she remembered correctly – was a psychiatrist, and had assessed her when considering her for the role. Project Freelancer was already a few years old, so West was slightly apprehensive about working with people that would have already been working together. It didn’t matter. She would get over it.

The taller man, however… West had only seen him through a video feed. Relatively tall, with grey at his temples and a black goatee… that was the Director. He was imposing, carrying himself with a distinct air of authority. He seemed like he would expect everyone to obey him.

West stared at him while exiting the pelican. Coming to stop a metre or so in front of him, she extended her hand to shake. When he didn’t offer a response, only a cold glare, West retreated her hand. If he was this cold, West was surprised that he had even come to see her arrive. The Counsellor extended his hand, however, shaking West’s outstretched palm.

“Agent West Australia. Good to see that you arrived safely.” His voice was probing, calculating. West had seen that with other psychiatrists that she had met. They always wanted to get under your skin, to see what made you tick. _Ugh_, this guy gave her the willies. West kept her face passive, nodding once. “Your armour is ready, and the Director wishes to see you in your initial trial on the training floor.”

The Director nodded. “The Counsellor here has told me about your fighting skill, Agent. You can go retrieve your armour and meet Agent Washington in the arena. He will be your sparring partner.” He had a rather severe southern drawl, after which he finished, nodded stiffly, and stalked off.

West snorted, watching him go. _Seems like a real hard-ass. _The Counsellor, once the Director had disappeared, motioned to a doorway across the hanger. He started walking, West keeping tight at his heels, rucksack slung over one shoulder. Right, down to business, then.

“Your armour is in the armoury. You can get equipped, and then we will go to the training floor. Agent Washington is our battle rifle expert, but you will complete several rounds, such as hand to hand and bo staffs. Your armour doesn’t have any specific equipment, but that may be added on later, once you complete your training for the advanced healing unit. You worked with these armour models in the war, correct?”

The woman nodded, not saying anything. The Counsellor unnerved her.

As they approached the armour, the sounds of fighting started ringing down the hallways. The man frowned, once, before entering the huge room. Running about fifteen metres down and ten across, the armoury seemed to hold the entire ship’s weapon supply, including both conventional weapons and alien weaponry. West whistled, cracking into a grin. There was some real firepower in that room.

Off to the side, a tall casket held a certain set of armour. Just taller than her, a white set of armour stood before her, the red markings on the shoulders and legs indicating her as a medic. It took West’s breath away, and suddenly she was itching to try it out. That armour was _hers. _

The Counsellor nodded. “There’s a room next door. You can get changed in there.” He then retreated from the room, giving her some semblance of privacy. West grinned. Moving the casket to the other room, she quickly stripped, pulling on the black suit that would make her suit pressurised when activated. Kevlar, if she recalled. Highly resistant to bullets and trauma. Slowly and carefully, almost reverently, she pulled each piece of armour on, finally pulling the white and red helmet over her head. It fit like a glove, and when she activated her armour’s helmet display, she exhaled and laughed. It had been a while since she had been in any sort of armour. It was almost thrilling being back in the saddle, so to speak.

When she exited the armoury, the Counsellor looked her over, nodded, before moving down the steel grey corridor. Towards the training area, she supposed. As they got closer, the noises from before started increasing in volume, until they were all that you could hear. The Counsellor moved to a certain door, which opened up into a small room overlooking the training area. A robotic, female voice was keeping score while two figures in armour were sparring. The first individual was a big, stocky soldier, with fully white armour; he looked like he was well over two metres tall, holy heck. His helmet was… interesting, not being standard issue, with his visor taking up most of his helmet. He was much slower than the other fighter, who was darting around in black and green armour on what seemed to be… prosthetic legs? That was unusual. Not uncommon though. 

Suddenly, the black and green soldier seemed to stumble and collapse slightly, staggering as his legs buckled. There was no audio from the room, although it appeared that it was possible to listen into the Agent’s radios, judging by the consoles underneath the windows. They weren’t on, although it seemed that the soldier was in pain. The other agent went to them immediately, picking them up. West watched on worriedly. Was the other soldier alright?

The Counsellor seemed to know what she was thinking. “That’s Agent Cerberus. This happens when his prosthesis malfunction. Agent Maine will help him repair his legs.”

West exhaled, still watching the pair worriedly. “So long as he’s alright. I might have a look later…” She’d seen her fair share of prosthesis in the Covenant war. At that moment, the Director decided to walk in, with another Agent in tow. Both West and the Counsellor turned to face them, West pulling her gaze from the two Agents exiting the room, turning to analyse the man next to the Director. He was tall, about as tall as West herself, with grey armour with yellow strips. He was wearing his helmet, so West couldn’t read his face; his body language, however, was projecting discomfort at standing so close to the Director. He really wasn’t popular, was he? West had only known the man for an hour and she could already tell that not many people were fond of the bloke.

“Agent West Australia, this is Agent Washington. If you two will go down to the floor, we may start this test.” The Director’s word was firm, retaining no empathy, only a cool, flat tone. The two agents both nodded, moving over to the elevator that would take them to the training floor. Once inside, Washington seemed to relax, body posture becoming more casual. He stuck out his hand almost immediately, tilting his helmet to the side.

“I’m Agent Washington, but most people call me Wash. You’re our new medic, aren’t you?”

West smiled, shaking his hand in response. “Yeah. I’m Agent West Australia. It’s nice to meet you, Wash.” She rubbed the back of her helmet for a moment, thinking. “You can probably call me West. Or WA, if it’s easier.”

“Okay, West. How good are you at fighting?”

The doors of the elevator slid open. West grinned, stepping out. “I guess you’ll find out, won’t you? Just because I’m a medic, doesn’t mean I can’t fight. Don’t go easy.”

Wash shrugged, giving a short laugh, while moving to the opposite end of the floor. West could still hear him clearly through her helmet’s mic. “If you won’t go easy, I won’t either.”

Above the two, the Director’s voice boomed out, echoing in both their helmets and around the cavernous room. “Agent Washington, Agent West Australia, you will complete six rounds; two hand to hand rounds, two bo staff rounds and two with pistols and the locking paint. Is that understood?”

West nodded, looking upwards at the massive screen. Across it, it read: Agent Wash and Agent West Australia, each with a zero under their names. Just above the screen, West could see that more agents had come to watch the fight, some watching more intently than others.

“Round one. Begin.” A mechanical, female voice chimed off. Wash and West circled each other, with West pulling her arms up into a guard. They had both been in enough fights to be wary of an unknown opponent. Another minute of dodging and circling went by before the medic grumbled.

This was getting them nowhere!

“Oh, fuck it.”

With that, West crouched back onto her heels, bursting forwards with a sudden rush of speed. The medic knew her weaknesses. She was fast but couldn’t hold her stamina up for long periods of time. If she attacked quickly and got the element of surprise, she might be able to beat Wash. He was probably stronger than her, so she’d need to be careful of being grabbed and pinned. She could use her speed and legs to her advantage. 

She had to say, Wash seemed surprised by her sudden burst forwards. They were only a few metres apart when she suddenly sprung towards him, lashing out with her right fist. She aimed too high, allowing Wash to duck and throw her off balance. She stumbled, rolled with the momentum, not before retaliating with a number of ferocious kicks that forced Wash backwards.

Wash grunted in pain when one of her swinging heels connected with his left shoulder, sending him sprawling backwards, not after he grabbed her leg and swung her a few metres away. She rolled with the impact, coming up on her hands and knees, but the break gave Wash enough time to get into an offensive position, lashing out with his right leg to strike her across the head. She went sprawling, the blow knocking her to the ground, where she went prone.

Everything seemed to go silent as West went still. Wash froze. Had he knocked her out? On their first fight? He rushed over to her still form, when suddenly he found himself being flipped and pinned by the other soldier. Had he been able to see her face, she would have been grinning.

“Round one, West Australia.”

West laughed, getting off the dejected soldier. She offered a hand, helping him up off the ground. “Never forget that your opponent might be playing dead. It’s saved my life before.”

Wash sighed. He was never going to hear the end of this from North and York. “Do you always like making people look like an idiot?”

West laughed as she returned to her initial position on the floor. “Well, it won’t work now.” Dropping into a guarded pose, she grinned. “Come on, Wash, let’s see what you’re made of.”

Five rounds later, West was still winning. It was currently 3-2, as Wash had beaten her in the second hand to hand round by pure luck, managing to get a hold on her when she least expected it, and had clipped her in the head during the locking paint round.

West was more cautious now, to say the least. She had thrashed Wash in the 3rd and 4th rounds, as melee weapons were more her speciality than anything else. They would both have major bruises tomorrow, no doubt. Wash had managed to win the last round by getting a lucky shot on her helmet, knocking her to the ground and incapacitating her. He was much more accurate with a gun than she was, with only her speed and instincts saving her from the painful, fast setting foam.

She loaded her pistol quickly, taking an extra mag for good luck. The floor had reset itself into a small maze of blocks to act as cover, and so, West crouched behind one of the blocks. She was going to have to be fast. That was the only thing going for her at the moment, unless she could get Wash into close enough range to fight hand to hand where she seemed to be more skilled.

“Begin. Round 6.”

Straining her ears, West listened for any sign of her opponent. He seemed to be keeping quiet. Jumping back a few steps, West ran forwards and upwards, climbing on top of the rectangular block to look around. Suddenly, a flash of purple flew at her and she dodged, jumping and sprinting across the top of the blocks. It had been silly, yes, to expose herself, but now she knew where Wash was shooting from. Sprinting towards the bullets, West slid and dropped down to the ground, sprinting to where she imagined Wash to be. Coming around a corner, she saw a flash of grey and yellow before she swung quickly and forcefully. Connecting her fist with his helmet, she sent him sprawling backwards, Wash having been taken unaware by the attack. He recovered quickly, but it gave her enough time to hook her leg under his, trip him up and point a gun to his head. Wash groaned and banged his helmet against the ground as FILISS announced West as the winner.

West laughed, offering her hand to Wash. He took it, pulling himself up. “Good fight. I don’t know what I expected from an army medic.”

“You put up a good fight yourself, you know.”

Wash groaned. “North and York are never going to let me live this down.”


	2. Chapter 2

West blinked and mumbled tiredly as her alarm started blaring to indicate the start of her day. She slammed her fist into her alarm, stopping the irritating squawking, before rolling over to lay flat on her back. According to her clock, it was 0700, which was when breakfast was supposed to start.

Grumbling, West dragged herself out of bed. They only had an hour to eat, after which the Agents would train, the workers would work and everyone else would do whatever they had to do. She was dead tired, having been dragged around for nearly 6 hours yesterday by the Counsellor after her fight with Wash. He had wanted to finalise her ‘profile,’ which would contain her psych analysis or something. She hadn’t bothered to take notes. So, after that, she had been shown her room, then her office, which resided in the medical bay. She did like the med bay. It was clean and white, with two lines of 10 beds running down the sides of the room. The supplies were impressive as well. She had almost everything in bulk, which was a major change from having to scrape up supplies in a war zone, and everything was labelled clearly. Once the annoying nurse cleared out, West supposed she would make herself quite comfortable.

Talking about the nurse, he had been a tall, thin man with a drawn face that looked like he hadn’t laughed in years. He had spent two hours rattling on about protocol to West, who had listened on with semi-feigned interest. She understood the need for paperwork, but everything else, like cleaning up and using equipment was just silly. She _knew_ the protocol. She didn’t need to hear it again. If she did need it, she’d just log onto the ship’s network and find out herself!

But thankfully, that nurse had only been a temporary replacement until West had gotten settled in. She would spend most of the day in the med bay, otherwise, she’d be training with the Agents or doing equipment stuff in the classroom. She wasn’t bothered. According to the Counsellor, she could skip training today to get settled in. Thankfully the accident or injury rate was so low that the ship only needed a skeleton crew of medical personnel, which included several surgeons, nurses, general practitioners and combat medics. There were three med bays; hers, which was had a resident medical officer that flicked in and out occasionally, the Reds and Blues, which was on the other side of the ship, and Recovery; that predominantly dealt with AI implantation. West hadn’t met any of the medical crew yet. They weren’t agents, so she supposed they mainly stayed on board. She hoped everyone was nice. She couldn’t stand certain types of people. Mainly annoying ones.

Shaking her head, West stood. She really should be getting to breakfast. Since she was going straight to the med bay afterwards, she would wear her armour.

Striding out into the corridor, she turned to the left, following the signs on the walls that pointed in the direction of the mess hall. Ugh. West hated being in a place that she didn’t know well. It was too easy to get lost. With her helmet under her arm, she started walking.

Five minutes later, she was still walking. Where was she again? Bloody hell…

“Hey! West Australia, was it?”

Behind West, a cheery, male voice called out. The medic paused and turned around to see a blond-haired man with purple armour and green stripes jogging up to meet her. Another agent? West smiled politely as he stuck out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Agent North Dakota. Most people call me North. You fought well yesterday. It’ll be nice to have a new face on the team.”

West chuckled. “Thanks.” She paused, looking around for a sign, before turning to North sheepishly. “Do you know where the mess hall is?”

North chuckled. “Got lost?”

“…yes.”

The blond grinned. “Come on, it’s this way. I was just on my way there.” Motioning, he started to make his way down the hall. “Have you met everyone yet? I hear the rat in the med bay was putting you through your paces yesterday. It’ll be nice to have someone with emotion treating us soon.”

West made a face that she hoped reflected her experience with the nurse. Judging by North’s laugh, it had the desired effect. “More like boring me to death. He seemed to think that I had never been inside a medical bay before. Idiot.” She grumbled the last part under her breath. North still caught it and laughed. “So, who are the main agents I should look out for?”

North smiled. “Well, Carolina’s the usual squad leader. She can get a bit hot headed sometime, so watch out when it happens. Tex is a scary woman, so stay away from her. York is the lock picking expert, _apparently_, but he’s pretty cool. South’s my sister, but she has a bit of a temper. Don’t let her get on your nerves.” He paused, thinking. “Maine and Cerberus usually hang out together, but they’re usually pretty calm, except when Maine gets mad. You’ve met Wash. Wyoming is the one who always tells knock-knock jokes, and Florida is always extremely cheerful. CT isn’t really around all that much. I’m sure I’ve missed someone, but that’s pretty much it.”

West nodded, everything falling silent as they walked. She supposed she’d meet everyone soon enough. “So, there’s Carolina, Tex, York, South, Maine, Cerberus, Wash, who I’ve met, Wyoming, Florida and CT. That’s everyone?”

North laughed. “That’s some memory.”

She chuckled. “Thanks, but I’m gonna forget all of that by the time we get to the mess.”

A few minutes later, West found herself in a large hallway. There were benches stretching from wall to wall, with a long row of cafeteria styled food servers along one wall. There seemed to be a massive array of food available, and as soon as the two freelancers approached the food, a gap parted in the line of soldiers. West blinked. While most soldiers treated her with a decent amount of respect and/or indifference due to her role as a medic, she was unused to having _this _level of respect shown to her! When food was concerned, it was a free-for-all. Freelancers seemed to be treated with an almost worshipful reverence, which was slightly unsettling.

Grabbing one of the trays North handed to her, she quickly piled up her food before following North to what she assumed was his table. It seemed that most of the freelancers gravitated around each other, with most of the squad sitting on the same table or either extremely close. North sat down next to a man with brownish tan coloured armour, who had dark brown hair and a scar running almost vertically down the side of his face. It seemed that he had also lost an eye, or at least, his vision.

Wash was sitting across from the scarred man, and as West say down next to him, he smiled, face full of food. “Did you get lost?”

The scarred man laughed. “Don’t ask her with your mouth full, Wash! Swallow first!”

Rolling his eyes, Wash swallowed before repeating his question. West chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, and North had to help me out.”

The scarred man smiled. “Don’t worry, it happens to all the new people at first. You learn your way around pretty quickly.” He stuck out his hand across the table. “I’m Agent New York. It’s nice to meet you. You’re West, right? Or WA?”

West smiled. “Yeah. Can I call you York?”

He laughed. “Of course! Everyone here gets a nickname at some point or another. Do you prefer West or WA?”

She shrugged, starting to pick at her food. “Doesn’t really matter. You can call me either.”

Wash swallowed his mouthful of food and piped up. “Are you coming to training today, West?”

The woman shook her head. “No, I’m going to set up in the med bay.”

“Do you need help getting there?” York pulled the biggest grin, so West flicked a piece of food at his face, hitting him square in the nose. He recoiled with an “Oi!” while Wash and North laughed.

“No, I’ll be fine thanks. Besides, you guys have to get to training. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

North smiled. “Otherwise, you can just ask one of the soldiers. We can come visit after.”

“That’d be good. Don’t think it’ll be too exciting for you though.”

The blond shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. Hm?” Breaking off, he focused on something behind West. “Hey, Cerberus! How are you feeling?”

West turned around to see a tall, sandy blond man with prosthetic legs approaching the table and he had a… tail? What? He obviously noticed West’s confusion, as he stuck his hand out in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Agent Cerberus. You’re Agent West Australia?” He looked at North with a sheepish smile. “I’m fine, North. Prosthesis were just playing up a bit. Pushed myself a bit hard yesterday.”

West nodded, trying to overcome her surprise. “Yeah… yes. You can call me West or WA if you want. Are your legs alright? I saw your fall yesterday.”

Cerberus smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Maine fixed me up. They play up every so often.” He took a slight step back and winced.

West narrowed her eyes. She wanted to have a look. “I dealt with a lot of prosthesis during the war. Would you mind if I took a look at your prosthesis? It wouldn’t take long. I might be able to help with your pain.”

“No, it’s alright, I’m fi- what are you doing?” Cerberus glared at her wearily as she stood up, inspecting him. Wash, North and York looked on curiously as West sized Cerberus up. She couldn’t see anything underneath the armour, but Cerberus seemed to be limping and in pain. She nodded resolutely.

“Right, come on. I’m going to give your legs a look and I’ll give you something for the pain.”

West hid a smile as he protested. “No, I’m fine, really- hey!”

Gingerly, she swooped down and picked up Cerberus, hooking her hands under his knees and under his arms. He proclaimed loudly in protest, amongst the laughter of the other freelancers as West started walking towards the door. She turned slightly to yell towards the freelancer she thought was Maine: “You can pick him up later!”


	3. Chapter 3

There was probably some rule preventing her from forcefully taking a person to examine them, but West wasn’t really bothered. Cerberus had stopped squirming, resigning himself to being carried to the med bay. He had gone bright red, pouting in her arms. West had to stop herself from laughing, instead allowing herself a small grin.

“You know, I can walk. You don’t have to carry me, West.” Cerberus was still pouting. West chuckled, turning down the next corridor. She had been walking for a few minutes and now knew where she was; she had been led down this corridor yesterday. It had the same signs. A few more corridors and she found herself in the white, wide med bay. West smiled. At least she didn’t get lost.

Turning her attention to the man in her arms, she gave him a flat look. “You are obviously in pain. And, no- don’t you dare tell me you aren’t- I’m a medic, I’m trained to look for this!” Heading over to one of the beds, she gently placed Cerberus on the bed. He just sat there, pouting and crossing his arms. “Mind taking your pants off? I want to have a look at your legs.” When he gave her the most affronted look, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Not like that. You can leave your underwear on. I’ll pull a screen across, so you get some privacy.”

Grumbling, Cerberus started to remove his armour, gingerly placing it on to adjacent bed. He had to take everything off, before peeling his Kevlar suit underneath away to reveal his prosthetic legs. West frowned. They looked angry and inflamed, the place where the metal joined skin looking the most aggravated. It wasn’t infected, it just looked like Cerberus’s body was trying to reject the metal. West had seen it before on the front lines with dodgy prosthesis. You needed to give the patient certain drugs to make their body accept the prosthesis; they were also used in all manner of transplant surgeries, from artificial heart valve transplants to organ transplants. Cortisone would be the easiest to get a hold of, but she’d have to discuss this with Cerberus. Extended steroid use could be troublesome, but the alternative was chronic pain and damage to the melding site. The medic sighed. She’d have to place a specific order to the cargo hold in order to get some. At least she could give Cerberus painkillers. She had enough of those.

Cerberus squirmed on the cot. Ah, she’d been disappearing inside her head a little bit, considering treatment options. “So, can I go now? I need to get to training.”

West tilted her head, considering. Had _anyone_ discussed this with the agent? “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” He shook his head. “Okay, good. I’m going to give you some mild analgesics, to help with the pain. You need a certain type of drug to stop your body from reacting with your prosthesis. I’m going to have to order them in.”

“It’s fine, West. I’ve been dealing with this pain for a while now. Maine usually helps me when it gets bad, but I’ll be alright.”

West narrowed her eyes at him, before she sighed and sat down on the cot opposing him. “Cerberus. You shouldn’t _be _in any pain. That-“ She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not uncommon for this to happen with poorly installed implant, but you don’t _have _to be in pain. You have a right to feel okay.” She sat up straight from where she had slouched over. “I don’t want to be serving with someone I know is injured. I don’t want to pull rank, but as your commanding medical officer, I am _strongly _suggesting that you take the drugs I give you. You aren’t under any obligation to take these pills. I can’t force you to take them. But I am asking you to. Please?”

Cerberus grumbled and relented, taking the painkillers that West handed to him. With her watching, he swallowed the pills with a gulp of water. “Happy? Can I go now?”

West gave him a quick appraisal. She wasn’t happy, having to leave him like that, but there was nothing she could do, really. Not at the moment, anyway. She nodded. “I’d like to talk to you later about your prosthesis, but yeah, you can go-“

The door slammed open, a soldier bursting in. “Doc! We need your help in the cargo bay! One of the agents is injured!”

The two agents paused in surprise, when West nodded, quickly running over to the wall to grab an emergency first aid pack and a scoop stretcher. Switching almost instantly into her ‘work mode,’ she started to think about possible injuries. The medic hoped that there was were other medical personnel their way now. She’d need help stabilising a critical patient, and she’d need to see the injury. Throwing the scoop stretcher over her shoulder, along with the emergency first aid kit, she followed the soldier hurriedly out the door.

As they sprinted down the hallway, West quizzed the soldier on the nature of the agent’s injuries. Apparently, the Reds and Blues had been caught in a scuffle on the way back from a stealth mission to retrieve stolen equipment from something called ‘the Resistance.’ The pelican had been shot and nearly sent down, with one of the agents copping a bullet wound to the chest. That was almost all the info West could glean from the soldier, but it would have to be enough. At least she could prepare for bullet wounds and trauma.

It only took them a minute, sprinting, to reach the hanger. There was a fair amount of chaos, but amongst it, West could see the purple armour of another medic. There were a few brightly coloured Agents keeping the soldiers at bay, forming a ring around the injured agent and the medic. West, with Cerberus in tow, ran over to the crowd, shoving her way through. The crowd parted almost immediately when she yelled, “Medic! Let me through!” revealing a pile of bright, cyan armour lying abandoned on the ground and a prone, dark skinned figure. The other medic was kneeling on the ground, doing his best to stabilise the wound. He looked up, suddenly, and when he spotted West, he almost visibly relaxed. She hurried over to the prone agent, kneeling down next to him.

It wasn’t pretty. Two bullet holes stood dark and bleeding against the man’s dark skin. One was just above the area of his left clavicle, with the other just under the man’s right nipple. He was unconscious, gasping for air. He probably had a pneumothorax, judging by the injury. West swore under her breath. That was bad. Hopefully there would be an exit and entry wound. It would save the two medics a lot of trouble. She began running through treatment options in her head as she opened her first aid kit, rummaging for equipment; oxygen, for low saturation levels, gauze and dressings for the wound, bandages to secure the dressings, an OPA in case they needed to establish an airway.

The other medic had started to stabilise the man’s chest, applying a three-sided dressing to the bullet wound to prevent more air from entering his chest. He was doing a decent job, so West moved to the agent’s left side, beginning to treat his shoulder with her supplies. Without even a signal, the two medics began rattling off vital signs.

“Can you take blood pressure?”

West nodded. “Yep, I’ll take it in a sec. Heart rate?”

The man grunted. “110.”

She swore under her breath. Shit. “That’s not good. We need to get him to the advanced healing unit, or this could get bad.”

“You brought a stretcher?”

“Yep. Resp rate?”

“31.”

“Okay, blood pressure’s 90 on 60. We need to get him to the med bay quickly.”

“Log roll?”

“Yeah. Cerberus! We need your help!” Calling to the other agent, who was standing idly, West beckoned him over. West pulled over the scoop stretcher, splitting the two half and lining up the stretcher against the cyan agent. “We need to do a log roll. We also need a least one more person to lift the stretcher.”

The purple medic nodded, calling out to one of the other agents that West hadn’t met. “Sarge! We need your help!”

An agent in bright red armour broke off from the crowd to come stand near the purple medic. “Whatcha need, Doc? Help carrying that dirty Blue?”

The medic, Doc, sighed. “Yes, we need help carrying him. Okay,” He nodded to West, “I’ll take head and you can take the torso. Sarge, you can take the legs and Cerberus, you can help lift the stretcher. We’ll roll to the side on the count of three. Okay?”

Everyone chimed their agreement. West had done this enough times for it to be almost automatic for her. On three, the three agents rolled the cyan agent onto his side, where Cerberus slid the scoop stretcher underneath the unconscious man. He was well and truly unconscious, possibly going into shock, without even a sound or a twitch at the roll. _GCS of 3, _her mind recited. _This is not good. _A minute later, the cyan soldier was lying on the stretcher, strapped firmly onto the metal. Doc was instructing the group again, and on three, the four lifted the man up. He was as stable as possible, and until West and Doc could get him to the closest healing unit, there was nothing else they could do to help him.

About 5 minutes later, the small group was back in the med bay, the only words having been exchanged being instructions from either West or Doc. With help from Cerberus and the red agent named Sarge, Doc and West managed to direct the cyan soldier – named Tucker – into the bulky, full body healing unit in the far corner. It was basically a tube, and when someone was placed in it, it accelerated their normal healing rate to heal damaged tissue and injuries at a much faster rate. Almost instantly, Tucker’s vital signs started to stabilise as the tube started to work. They didn’t improve immediately- that would take a little bit of time – but they stopped their obvious decline. West had used a cruder, larger version in the war, which had worked far more slowly than this current model. She was going to have an even more advance model implanted into her armour, to allow for her to help her casualties on the field. But that wasn’t the time to think about that.

Jotting down Tucker’s vital signs from earlier, West pinned it to the healing unit, so either she or Doc could have a comparison baseline. Standing back from the grumbling machine, she exhaled in relief. There was nothing else they could do, apart from let the machine do its work. The two medics had made sure that there was no debris or foreign objects so that the healing unit didn’t leave Tucker with a bullet in his back. Turning to the other medic, West stuck out her hand. “I’m West. It’s nice to meet you.”

The man smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “You’re the new medic, aren’t you? Thanks for your help. I don’t think I would’ve been able to get Tucker here otherwise.” He paused, smiling again, before shaking West’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Most people just call me Doc. They can’t be bothered pronouncing my name…”

West chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Doc.” Turning, she stuck her hand out to the red soldier lingering a few metres away. “You’re Sarge?”

The older man grinned and shook her hand with an intense grip. “Agent Sarge, leader of the mighty Reds! It’s nice to meet you, little lady.” He had a southern drawl, not unlike the Director himself. He nodded approvingly at the red on West’s armour and grinned.

By the second hour of Tucker being in the healing unit, almost everyone had heard of his injury and had poked their heads into the med bay at one point or another. To avoid injuring Tucker, West and Doc had decided to leave the agent in the healing unit, but Doc had retreated to his own med bay and office to complete the paperwork. Cerberus was having fun chasing off the curious soldiers, but he allowed some people, like Wash and some other agents, to stay as they were all friends of Tucker. West groaned, running a gloved hand through her hair. She was extremely bored. She had to stay to monitor Tucker, but she had nothing to do. Thankfully, some of the agents that had visited, such as Agent Caboose, Agent Church, Agent Grif and Agent Simmons, were providing an interesting distraction. They were all friends of Tucker, and as West could see, all had some… interesting friendships. Grif and Simmons were arguing about something idiotic, while Church was trying to fend Caboose off from hugging him or something. They were a very odd bunch of people. Caboose was a tall and extremely friendly young man, with dark brown, almost black hair. He was almost always smiling and insisted that Church was his ‘bestest friend in the whole world.” Church, however, was a grouchy man in his mid-twenties, with an almost scary resemblance to the Director, having black hair, similar face and goatee. She… wasn’t entirely sure how _that_ relationship worked, but she wasn’t going to question it.

Grif was a short, chubby soldier, tanned skin reflecting his Hawaiian heritage, in frank contrast to his companion. Simmons was a tall, skinny, pale white man with auburn hair and prosthetic arm and what appeared to be eye and leg. They were a very strange group, but according to Wash, they were better “once you got to know them.” West hoped so. She had a feeling that she’d see a lot of the multi-coloured agents over the course of her career as a Freelancer. The group had also brought over Tucker’s armour, so that was sitting in the corner.

After a while, the other agents had to leave, their other duties calling them, much to Grif and Church’s annoyance. Wash had to leave as well, being needed in one of the AI maintenance classes. West lent back in her chair with a pout. What was she going to do now, asides from monitor the agent? She was alone again with the unconscious Tucker. It was hard to tell when he would wake up. His injury was healing well, and his lung had almost fully inflated again. West grumbled, sitting up in her chair. _May as well make myself useful…_

Nearly four hours later, nearing dinner, West had cleaned the entire med bay from top to bottom, had taken an inventory of the entire room and had cleaned her office. Tucker hadn’t woken up. And she was so _bored. _At the entrance of the room, the sliding metal doors opened, revealing York, North and Wash with a few trays of food. It was nearing dinner, of course. West’s stomach growled at the reminder, but she almost hugged York – the closest – in joy. “York, help me! I’m _so bored._”

Wash and North chuckled while York tried to dodge West’s attack. They had all decided to see how the new agent was settling in, considering what had happened that day with Tucker’s injuries. And because it was dinner, they had snuck a few trays of food out for the medic. They weren’t strictly _allowed _to do that, but they were able to sneak away without anyone noticing them.

So, that was how West found herself eating dinner on the ground of the med bay with three other agents that she’d only met that day or the day before. She had to laugh at that, so when North asked what she was laughing at, she explained. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Do you guys always sneak out food for the new kid?”

York grinned. “Only for people we like. We let Wash go hungry for about a week before North decided to be nice.” He flicked a piece of food at the other freelancer. “Ruined the fun.”

North only chuckled while Wash rolled his eyes and thumped York’s shoulder. “Thanks, York. Such a good friend.”

York recoiled and laughed, grinning at his friend.

“You know that taking food from the mess hall is against the rules, don’t you, boys?”

York, Wash and North froze almost instantly. Hesitantly, York turned to grin at the cyan agent. “Hey ‘Lina. Wash wanted to bring West some food, since she couldn’t leave the med bay, and… yeah.” He chuckled sheepishly. “That’s about it.”

Carolina shook her head and gave a small smile. “Don’t let the cook see you, or he’ll put _you _in the next meal. I came to see how the new recruit was.”

West smiled and stood up, brushing at her armour to remove any food. Walking over the other redhead, West extended her hand. “You’re Carolina, right?”

The woman nodded. “Yes. And you’re West Australia. You fought well yesterday.”

West smiled sheepishly. “Thanks. You can call me WA. Or West, if it’s easier.” Leaning back on her hip, she looked Carolina over once. “Do you need anything?”

“Yes, actually. My ankle’s been giving me some pain whenever I run. Can you take a look at it?”

The medic smiled. She’d dealt with plenty of sporting injuries before. “Sure. Come over to the bed and take your shoes and socks off. It’s your right ankle?” Carolina had been limping slightly on the way in. Once on the bed, West started to examine Carolina’s ankle, while asking her questions about her injury.

“When did the pain start?”

“A few days ago, during training.”

“How did you injure it?”

“I can’t really remember. I think I twisted it. ”

A few moments and a few questions later, West pulled back. From what she could tell, it was probably strained, with a few bruises and a bit of swelling around the ankle. Walking over to a cupboard, West pulled out a disposable ice pack, crunched it, before tossing it to Carolina. She also pulled out a pressure bandage, meant to give support to the woman’s ankle. Once strapped, West started to give Carolina instructions of how to deal with her ankle.

“So, try not to strain your ankle. Let it rest for a few days, okay? Keep that ice on it, for about two hours, then give it a break. And before you ask, that means _no training.”_

Carolina blinked in surprise. “I have to keep training. We all need to be at our best. If I stop for a few days, I’m going to need to catch up.” By that, West gathered that she wanted to be at her best so she could beat Agent Texas. York had filled her in about the rivalry between the two during an earlier discussion.

West rolled her eyes. “You won’t be at your best, Carolina, if you injure your ankle any further. If I see you on the training floor tomorrow, I will drag you off. You need to rest your ankle. Understood?”

The other agent glared at West, annoyance rolling off her in waves. West didn’t relent, so Carolina sighed, pulling her shoes on. “Fine. Thank you for the ice and strapping.”

West nodded. “If it starts hurting again or gets worse, come see me straight away, okay? I have painkillers and some anti-inflammatories if you need it.”

The freelancer nodded, smiled once, before disappearing out the door. Once she left, the other freelancers started to speak up again. Wash was the first to pipe up. “What the hell? She actually listened to you?”

North nodded his consent. “Wow. That was impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her take orders from another freelancer before.”

York, however, rolled his eyes. “She’s not that bad, guys.”

“You’re just sweet on her mate, come on.” North grinned while Wash laughed, nodding his agreement.

The scarred man shrugged. “Can blame me if the ladies love me.”

“I don’t.” West piped up, totally deadpan before cracking a grin at York to let him know that she didn’t really mean it. He still feigned hurt, clutching at his heart while North and Wash laughed.

“Ouch, that hurts West! How can you wound an injured soldier like me so badly?”

Wash laughed, grinning at West and his friend. “You really did walk into that one, York.”

York sighed, smiling. “You guys are unbelievable- “ He broke off when the bell indicating the end of dinner went off. The three male freelancers scrambled to their feet. “Shit, we have to return these to the mess hall! The cook’ll kill us!”

Wash grabbed two trays while York grabbed the other, and the three men bolted for the door, yelling their goodbyes through the open door. West laughed, shaking her head at their antics. She had a very good feeling that she was going to make some very good friends while in this program.

She was sure of it.


	4. Chapter 4

It was about three in the morning when Tucker woke up. West had been napping in her office when she heard an exclaim of “what the hell? Where am I?!” which had woken her rather suddenly. She had been trying to complete some more paper work and had put in the request form for Cerberus’s drugs. It had been near midnight when she had probably fallen asleep, sprawled over her desk. She had fallen asleep in her armour’s under suit, with half of her armour strewn across the office, and because of it, had a massive cramp in her right shoulder and lower back. Unfortunately, shooting upwards at the yell highlighted _everything _that hurt. Grumbling and massaging her shoulder, she made her way outside to see Tucker freaking out from within the full body healing unit.

“Hey- hey! Tucker, it’s okay. You were injured. Calm down!” She rushed over to the healing unit to open it, quickly unlatching the stretcher from the unit and pulling it out towards her. Tucker sat up, pale, eye wide, gasping frantically. West placed a hand on his back, cautiously trying to calm the Agent down. After a few seconds, the man started to relax, his breathing becoming more regular and even.

“Where am I? What happened?” He glanced around the med bay, taking in the surroundings. Recognition bloomed in his eyes, before he looked at West. “Who are _you_?”

“I’m the new medic on board. Name’s West Australia. Your ship was attacked, and you were injured, so Doc and I stuck you in the healing unit. You had a pneumothorax.”

“A what?!”

West exhaled, beginning to take a set of Tucker’s vitals. She would normally use the automatic function in her armour, but her stuff was in the office. Still, nothing beat taking everything manually. That wasn't sarcasm! Mostly. “You got shot in the lungs. Your right lung had collapsed, and you had air in your chest. You were lucky we got to you quickly.”

“Or what? I would’ve died?” Tucker raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Yep. But you seemed to have recovered well. How do you feel?”

“Sick. And sore. And not the good kind of sore.” He gave her a wink and a sly smile, before a slight wince. West just rolled her eyes. She had been warned about Tucker’s rather… promiscuous attitude.

“You don’t feel short of breath? And no pain?” West raised an eyebrow as the dark-skinned man shook his head.

“It feels a bit… weird? Like a bit achy in-“ He waved around at his upper chest area, “here. Otherwise, I feel alright.”

West smiled, relieved. “Okay, good. That is a normal side effect of staying in the healing unit for a long period of time. Your vitals are normal, but if you start getting any pain, let me know. I can run a check on you to make sure it isn’t anything serious, like a relapse. Okay?”

“Wait, so I have to stay here? Can’t I go back to my room?”

The medic gave the agent a stern look. “Yes, you have to stay here. And no, you can’t. If you’re okay in the morning, you can go back. But you’ll have to miss a day or two of training so you can allow your body to fully recover.”

“I can miss training? Hell yeah! Wash is gonna be so _pissed._”

West rolled her eyes, laughing slightly as she helped Tucker out of the healing unit. He sat down on one of the med bay beds, laying down and yawning. West nodded before yawning herself. “Time to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, Tucker.”

“Wait- Doc-“ Tucker’s voice caught her attention as she turned back to the office.

“Yeah? Is there anything else?”

He shifted on the bed, inhaled as if to pull himself together before asking his question, albeit with a slight tremor in his voice; “Was everyone else okay? I kinda passed out on the way back, but I know Grif got nicked in the arm and Caboose-“

“Tucker. Everyone’s okay. You were the most seriously injured, but your Doc had a look at everyone and cleared them. They’re all okay.”

The man gave a rushed exhale, anxiety in his features smoothing out in relief. “Okay, thank fuck. Those idiots would just bitch and moan if they got stuck in here.”

“Not that they wouldn’t do that anyway?”

Tucker laughed, settling back down. “Oh shit, you’ve met them already?”

That prompted her to laugh, grinning. “They were… interesting. They were-“ She broke off into a wide yawn, scowling, causing Tucker to give a short laugh. “They were in here earlier, giving me shit.”

“Yeah, fucking sounds about right. Anyway, sleep sounds like a good idea. I’ll let you get to bed, Doc. And, ah, thanks. For that.”

She chuckled, giving a small wave as she retreated. “No problem Tucker. Good night then.”

“Night, Doc.”

West’s alarm went off in the morning at about 0530. A pager on West’s desk beeped noisily, and after a moment, opened up an automatic communication line. The medic scrambled up as Carolina’s voice came through on the comms. A quick glance into the med bay revealed Tucker on his back, splayed out, snoring softly. Everything seemed alright with him, so she turned back to the radio.

“West? West! Where are you? You’re needed in the war room!”

The agent groaned, rubbing her face sleepily. “What? Carolina, what’s happening?”

There was a sigh of exasperation over the line. “West, we have a mission. Weren’t you told? We’re all waiting! You have ten minutes before I make you do laps in the training room when we get back. Just. get. Here. _Now_.” The radio clicked off with Carolina’s threat.

West growled, basically throwing her armour on in under two minutes. She was used to getting dressed in record time after being in the war for so long, and she spent the next two minutes throwing together a temporary first aid kit. Her kit from yesterday was still in disarray, so she just packed whatever equipment she thought she’d need for a mission she knew _nothing about._ The next seven and a half minutes were spent running and grumbling to the war room, where she walked in with the biggest scowl on her face.

Agents Carolina, Wash, York, North, South and Cerberus were standing around a table with a holographic projector showing some sort of tower or secret base, with certain points highlighted in red and yellow. The Director and Counsellor were standing at the head of the table, with the Director frowning so hard it made the lines on his face look permanent, like slashes in granite. Wash, York, North and Cerberus were giving West both mortified and sympathetic looks. Carolina just gave her a flat look. The Counsellor was indifferent.

“Agent West Australia, you are twenty minutes late to a mission briefing. What excuse do you have for this?” The Director was radiating anger and disapproval, staring the medic down. West pulled off her helmet, slamming it down on the table. She was angry. She had received no word of the mission, and now she was getting scolded for something she _knew nothing about!_

“How about actually telling me, next fucking time?” She leaned over the table, glaring daggers at the man at the other end. “I’m up until midnight, monitoring one of our agents who had a fucking _pneumothorax, _and who only woke up at three this morning. And then I’m woken up, given ten minutes to prepare for a mission I knew _nothing _about, and then scolded for it! I’ve only been here for three days! So don’t give me any of this ‘excuses’ bullshit. You might be the Director, but you have no excuse to treat me in this way.”

West was faced with a stony silence, exemplified by the humming machinery. The Director glared West down, but she didn’t relent. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t say anything, as if he was waiting for an _actual_ explanation. Finally, after a few, awkward seconds, Carolina brought the Director’s attention back to the hologram. From what West could glean, they were raiding an enemy base, the same one the Reds and Blues had escaped from only the day before. Halfway through, West went over to the corner to radio Doc, to let him know that Tucker had woken up and that his vitals needed to be checked. Considering that Tucker was technically part of _his _team, the cyan agent really should have been taken to Doc’s med bay, but she supposed that they really hadn’t had the time, with the, you know, _pneumothorax_.

When the other agents and the Director started to watch, cold glare and curious ones boring into her skull, she just started talking about the most confusing medical jargon that she could, rambling on about hypoglycemia and deep vein thrombosis and whatever she could think of. Doc seemed confused, but after West explained it, he seemed happy to go along with it. She had to stop herself from laughing, as when she looked back, the other agents had returned their attentions to the table, with various degrees of confusion and amusement.

About ten minutes later, the briefing finished. Apparently West was staying in reserve. They were expecting some heavy resistance, and they weren’t sure how many people were going to get injured. The group walked hurriedly down to the hangar, with Carolina heading specifically towards a pelican near the front of the huge room. West trailed at the back of the group, in step with Wash and Cerberus. Turning to Wash, she caught his wrist with her hand, catching his attention. “Is everything okay?”

She smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know that Tucker woke up. Pretty much fully recovered. I… thought you might want to know?”

Since Wash had his helmet on, she couldn’t see his face, but she _was _getting better at reading people through their armour. The tension in his shoulders, from the incoming mission, worry about his friend, relaxed slightly. It didn’t disappear, but she could hear the relief and the smile in his voice. “Thanks West. I’m… I’m glad he’s alright. It looked pretty serious for a while.”

The medic gave a soft exhale. “Yeah. It was. But we got to him in time, and he’s almost fully recovered. That’s the most important thing.”

Wash nodded, once. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” His shoulders straightened up again, a subtle shift in his posture that revealed his renewed determination. “These are the same guys that hurt Tucker. Let’s give them _hell.”_

The medic grinned, clapping Wash on the shoulder in agreement, before her mind strayed back to her first aid equipment. She hadn’t had time to organise her first aid kit, and she wasn’t sure what sort of things they were going to run into. Agents Wash, North, York, South and Cerberus were going to act as a distraction while Agent Carolina would extract classified information from the base computers. She sure hoped Carolina would watch her ankle. She wasn’t sure how it would affect the cyan agent in battle. West was going to hang around in the pelican until someone got injured. Not much else. But she wasn’t sure what she had expected.

The inside of the pelican was a uniform, steel grey, with several seats along both sides. Carolina went straight to the cockpit, acting as a co-pilot for a woman named Four-Seven-Niner, apparently. Why did everyone have such weird names? The remaining agents picked their seats, sitting down almost leisurely. Wash sat down near West, who placed her first aid kit between her legs, wedging it in place. Cerberus was sitting across from her, North and York next to him, engaged in their own conversation. South was sitting next to York, gazing at her with an approving smirk. She seemed to have gained a new respect for West, after her outburst at the Director.

Shaking her head, the blond grinned wickedly. “West, you are insane. And you have some real balls.”

West just chuckled and shook her head. “Thanks? I think?” Pulling off her harness, she sat on the ground, opening her first aid kit. It was smooth goings so far, and they had nearly two hours until they reached their checkpoint. So, West was going to sort through her first aid kit, using the time to get her shit in order. She was tempted to tip the kit on the ground, but then she’d have to pick everything up again, and she _really _couldn’t be bothered. She ended up taking everything out and placing it on the ground next to her crossed legs. Wash slid onto the ground next to her, watching curiously.

“What sort of equipment is that?” He had pulled his helmet off, placing it on his seat next to him. He had shockingly blond hair that shone underneath the LED lights of the pelican, cut short into a regulation military haircut. West smiled. She always enjoyed informing people about first aid or medicine.

“What piece?” She motioned to her equipment on the ground with a laugh. She had all sorts of stuff; stuff to create artificial airways, portable oxygen cylinders, about three different types of oxygen masks, bandages, band aids, splints, tourniquets and about eight different types of medication. That wasn’t everything, but Wash seemed surprised at the amount of stuff crammed into one tiny bag. It was like extreme Tetris, which made her laugh. She also had a portable healing unit, but it was one use only and was to only be used in extreme circumstances. With any luck, they wouldn’t need it.

She had to say, it was probably one of the most enjoyable flights that West had had in a while. Wash seemed genuinely interested in what West knew, so she ended up spending nearly an hour talking to him about medical procedures and some of the things she had seen and heard. She told Wash a particularly silly story about how one of the men in her squad had been on patrol once on a jungle planet and had decided to use the time alone to his _advantage _when he had been ambushed by a group of grunt aliens. The plasma burns to some of his more sensitive areas hadn’t been funny, but the man had been rather ashamed when he had been rescued. Luckily, one of his mates had been nearby, and they had managed to help his friend fight off the weaker aliens. But still, it was one of the more ridiculous things that she’d seen, and she nearly pissed herself laughing with South when she saw the most mortified looks on almost all the men in the pelican. She had laughed and had slapped Wash on the back, playfully. He had grumbled and said something along the lines of ‘I really don’t want your job, West.’ before falling silent.

The closer to the checkpoint, the silence inside the pelican grew. West was nervous, but she would never admit it. She was afraid she would bugger something up, since she wasn’t used to major operations. Her old squad had always been low key, not as professional as the freelancers.

West exhaled slowly, counting in her head. It was an old breathing technique to help with anxiety, continuing the count as she leant her head against the back of her seat. She missed her old squad. She had run with them for nearly four years, had made some good friends. That was a long time in war. West clutched her dog tags tightly, not before opening her eyes and glaring at the ceiling of the pelican. Why was she remembering this? Her squad was dead.

“West, are you okay?” North was gazing worriedly at the medic, who seemed to be focused on glaring a hole through the top of the pelican. She had spoken animatedly with Wash for most of the trip, keeping everyone laughing with her stories. But now, she seemed to be unusually quiet. He heard her sigh, softly.

“Just thinking about my old squad.” She shook her head, her tight smile not reaching her eyes, betraying her nerves. “I’m fine, North. It’s alright.” He heard her mutter something under her breath. _It’ll be okay…_

Suddenly, Four-seven-niner’s voice broke through the silence of the pelican, crackling over the radio. “Alright, you lot, get ready. I won’t be able to stay for very long, so I’m going to have to drop you guys in the middle of the fight. They’ve got plenty of anti-aircraft guns, so you’ll have to disable them if you want to get picked up. And, sorry, was it West? You’ll have to go with your squad.” She paused for a moment, probably listening to Carolina. “No arguments, I can’t make two stops. Okay, on my mark, get ready to get out.”

And suddenly, they were free-falling. Apparently, the pilot had pulled something like this before, so West wasn’t worried. She just focused on getting her equipment and weapons ready. She had only grabbed a pistol and a standard battle rifle. West was a bit miffed at the fact that she wasn’t allowed to take any of the melee weapons, but she would have to make do.

“On my mark… NOW!”

The back of the pelican flung open as the vehicle started to stop its decent. Everyone sprinted for the door, flinging themselves into the middle of the unsuspecting enemies. West exited last, jumping the remaining twenty metres or so to the ground. She wasn’t worried about injuring herself; her armour would protect her, with shock absorbers located in the armour on her legs and hips. Automatically, instinctively, she threw herself into cover, watching in her peripheral vision as their ride disappeared back into the clouds. Well, they were on their own now.

They had thrown themselves into a literal battlefield. Since the Reds and Blues hadn’t been able to complete their mission, the freelancers were being sent in to finish the job. The Resistance were sure as hell expecting them. They mightn’t have expected them to drop out of the sky, but the sheer _number_ of armed soldiers indicated that the organisation had been expecting them.

The compound, in the middle of what seemed to be the goddamn ocean, was an old, industrial style, warehouse looking set of buildings, all grouped up together on the side of a natural island. The area they were in now seemed to be a massive courtyard, ringed by huge shipping containers, worn down by rust and old age. They were strewn rather haphazardly around, which meant that it gave West and the others plenty of time to slip into some form of cover.

West punched a soldier in the face, knocking him out almost instantly. A bullet later and he was down. Slipping into his cover, she didn’t allow herself to feel regret. It’d only hamper their progress. Empathy was useful in treating patients, not for killing the enemy. As West gazed over the battlefield from her little alcove, she could hear the yelling and fighting from both the radio and all around her.

Carolina had already disappeared, slipping off inside the compound to recover the stolen information. Wash and North were pinned down nearby, taking cover behind a massive upturned building. Cerberus was nowhere to be seen. Actually- she could see a slight shimmer in the air as soldiers seemed to just… die. York, she couldn’t see. South was just going wild, killing as many soldiers as possible in her path before she started grappling with what seemed to be an officer or some sort of elite. She could see quite a few of the ‘elite’ soldiers around the compound. There was one with a sniper rifle, flanked by a group of his minions, another two, both with melee weapons; from what West could see, one was carrying a set of tomahawks, the other with a set of wicked looking knives. The medic frowned. She had a feeling that she would end up grappling with one of them by the end of this. Call it a gut feeling.

Well, by the sound of it, the freelancers were providing a decent distraction for Carolina. West was surprised at the fact that she hadn’t been shot yet, since she was wearing almost all white armour, and it wasn’t entirely _inconspicuous_. Provided, she was hiding, but still. She was counting herself lucky. Quite often, medics were targeted first, taken out quickly; if your enemy couldn’t heal, it was easier to take them out. West had had to fight off more than one soldier in several fights, solely for that reason.

It seemed that everyone else was being pinned down; even Cerberus, who was now visible again. West poked her head out again. York was yelling something to North, asking him to try take out the other snipers. South was yelling something else that West couldn’t make out; the radio was just an unintelligible garble of words and noise.

The woman sighed. Glancing behind her, she noticed that the soldier that she had shot had several fragmentation grenades. Well, she _did _have a decent throwing arm… Pulling the pin out from one of the grenades, she counted for two seconds before lobbing it as hard she could towards the group of snipers. She had thrown it well; it landed at the foot of the elite, who only noticed what it was a second too late. The resounding boom brought a small twinge of satisfaction. West was a medic, but also a soldier. This was something she was _good _at. She didn’t like hurting people if she could, but if it meant defending her friends, she would do her job.

“Who the hell threw that?!” West could hear Wash shriek over the radio. She sighed, exasperated.

“That was me, Wash.”

“Damn, you throw well! We need to bring you to more missions.” That was York.

“Guys, can we focus? These guys are looking pretty determined to kill us.” Cerberus.

“Right. I’ll try find a vantage point to take some out.” North piped up, disappearing around a building.

“Is anyone injured?” That was her.

“No.”

“Nah, we’re fine.”

“West, you need to lighten up. We can take care of ourselves.” That was South.

“Okay, if you get shot, you can treat yourself.” West snapped, looking around for more enemies. She could see the back of Wash’s armour, and the dark green smudge of Cerberus’s, but she couldn’t see York, South or North. That made her nervous.

Thankfully, South ignored her remark, apparently more focused on the fight. West poked her head out of her cover, looking around, when suddenly she was almost impaled by the guy with the Tomahawks. She ducked, quickly, and threw her equipment into the corner. It would only slow her down in a fight. Tomahawk Guy growled something along the lines of “I’m going to kill you!” which only made West roll her eyes. That was original.

Shit! West threw herself to the side, rolling with the momentum to come up on her hands and feet, not before jumping back to miss another swing. She could hear York yell something to her, maybe a warning, but she barely registered it, more focused on blocking and parrying the swinging soldier.

She pulled a combat knife from the sheathe, using the blade to block the man’s swing. She was knocked back to the ground, but after managing to get her legs under his stomach, managed to kick the elite a few metres away from her. She could hear his yell of anger, which was only exemplified when she threw her combat knife into his right shoulder – his superior arm. And judging on where she had thrown, she had severed some of the ligaments in his shoulder. As a result, his arm now hung limp at his side, tomahawk barely grasped. “I am going to fucking_ kill _you_.” _

Slowly – was it meant to be intimidating? - Tomahawk Guy pulled the combat knife from his shoulder, dropping it on the ground. The blade bounced once before stopping. West could only roll her eyes at the man. He couldn’t see it, yeah, but she still did it. Really! It was bad practise.

“You really shouldn’t do that. It’ll only make you bleed more.” West snorted, placing a hand on her hip. The man stopped – actually stopped – in surprise.

“What the hell?” He growled, taking a step towards her, only stopping when he saw the grenade clasped in her fingers. West waved her hand dismissively. She could see Cerberus creeping up behind Tomahawk Guy, a combat knife in his hand.

“Well, if you have an object impaled in you, it might be blocking punctured blood vessels from bleeding more. Like that knife.” West motioned to the knife on the ground with a wave of her hand. Even through his helmet, she could feel him giving her the most confused, aggravated look. A moment later, he was sliding to the ground, blood bubbling in his throat as Cerberus’s knife slashed it open.

“Really, West?” He sounded both annoyed and faintly amused. The medic shrugged.

“It gave you the chance to kill him, didn’t it?” West walked over to the dead elite, picking up the man’s tomahawks. She spun them around in her hands, testing them out. Not too heavy, but they felt like they could do some real damage. Nice and sharp, too. “Oh, I like these.” Cerberus gave her a rather unamused look. “What? I can’t help it if I have an affinity for melee weapons.”

He sighed, shaking his head before throwing himself back into the fray. “West, come on! I think York is having trouble with that sword chick.”

West just sighed and followed her friend. _Back into the fight…_


	5. Chapter 5

As it happened, York _had _been having trouble with the ‘sword chick,’ and had sustained several lacerations to his arms and chest. He wasn’t going easily though, having broken the woman’s nose and dislocated a few her fingers on her left hand after knocking her helmet off. She looked furious, her blonde hair whipping around her head as she pummelled the scarred agent, face twisting into an ugly snarl.

“HEY, BLONDIE!” West yelled at the top of her lungs. She wasn’t sure if the blonde would hear her, but she whipped around, allowing York to punch her in the face, sending her stumbling back with a spit of rage. The distraction allowed West and Cerberus to rush to York’s aid, with Cerberus swapping places with York while West dragged him away to what appeared to be a semi-safe location. At the very least, they were in cover and not being shot at. Thankfully, with North acting as their sniper, most of the soldiers on the field had been forced to run to cover, allowing the agents to gain the upper hand. Most seemed to be running away from the small group, except for the elites, who seemed to be screaming with rage.

York wasn’t in a good state. The worst injuries were several deep lacerations on York’s torso. His armour had blocked the worst of the injuries, but he was still leaking blood. West grimaced. His pulse rate was starting to spike, just as his blood pressure began to drop. _Y__ay! Shock!_ Her brain announced joyfully as she scanned her armour’s HUD display, which showed York’s vitals. At least she wouldn’t have to take most of them manually. It was accurate, and extremely useful, but she’d still need to take a pulse manually to feel the quality and rate. Okay, she needed to start at the top.

Danger! In the middle of a firefight, taking cover. Can’t do much about that. Next.

Response! York – on an initial assessment – was responding to voice, answering her questions with a slurred voice. _Need to check cognition, he’s going into hypovolemic shock. _

Send for help! She was it. Fuck.

Airway! York was breathing and talking- _slight tachypnoea but he’s talking in partial sentences. He has an open airway, so it hasn’t collapsed, _her brain noted, filing that away. Good. Next.

Breathing! Again, he was breathing and talking. Not well, but it was better than nothing.

Circulation! _He’s lost maybe… fuck, 750mls of blood? It’s hard to tell. Anyway, low blood pressure and high heart rate is indicating a later stage of shock, so probably more than my estimate. _Okay. That wasn’t _great, _but he wasn’t dead yet.

Disability! Her questions indicated that York was reasonably orientated to the situation, which was good, considering the situation. Blood glucose levels, again, indicated shock.

Expose and Evaluate! (Okay, maybe environment too!) She pulled his chest piece off. He didn’t resist much, having started the fall into unconsciousness from the loss of blood. He had several lacerations on his chest, mostly in the gaps and breaks between his chest plate. That woman had been a good, ruthless fighter, attacking all the weak points in the man’s armour. The medic doubted that anything important was injured (_read; organs, major blood vessels, whatnot- _this pulled a short laugh from her- wow her mind was strange!) but the sheer amount of damage meant that York had lost a decent amount of blood. This whole assessment took her a minute.

Okay, gauze, she needed gauze. Oh! And a dressing – non adherent and combines would do. Apply pressure to the chest… okay. She held that there, before pulling a fifteen-centimetre bandage from her first aid kit. Perched over York, she wound the bandage around his chest. Asides from that, she couldn’t do anything to stop the bleeding, except apply more pressure. Couldn’t apply a tourniquet to a torso unfortunately. York would defiantly need stitches when they got back to the Mother of Invention. Or maybe he just needed to spend some time in the healing unit. That would be easier. York just kept mumbling something about his ‘date with a certain agent.’ West could only roll her eyes.

While she was at it, she pulled the gauntlets and upper arm bracers off the man’s arms, beginning to bandage those up as well. The lacerations there weren’t as serious as the ones on his chest, thankfully. They didn’t look to be that deep.

“York, talk to me mate. Keep saying stuff. Doesn’t matter what.” Goddamn it, his temperature was dropping. Oxygen saturation was dropping as well. She pulled a cylinder of oxygen from her first aid kit, with a Hudson oxygen mask that she attached to York’s face. She hooked it up to the cylinder, feeling the cold flow of gas begin to come through the mask. He mumbled something incoherent. “Say that again, mate?” She couldn’t help it; sometimes in situations or emergencies, her ‘Australianness’ tended to come out, usually in the form of a stronger accent and Australian slang.

“I said… should I ask… ‘Lina… out to the Vegas Quadrant… on our next rotation?” His voice was weak, yet still seemed to have an edge of humour to it. West gave a small, forced chuckle.

“Ask her when Four-Seven-Niner picks us up. Okay, York? Keep talking to me, mate.”

After a few minutes, West had bandaged up most of the man’s injuries. The bandages on his chest had started to turn red, causing West to swear in the foulest language she could think of. She couldn’t do anything except apply another bandage and yell at Four-Seven-Niner for an evac and the others to finish what they were doing because they needed to _go_.

“West, what the _hell _is going on out there?!” Carolina yelled over the radio, sounding partially panicked, but mostly angry. “I’ve got what we need. Four-Seven-Niner, where the hell are you?! We’ve got about five minutes before this place goes up in smoke!”

Their pilot’s calm, annoyed voice came through on their radios, “I’ll be there in a sec. Get ready to move, you guys! And take out those anti-aircraft guns!”

“We’re on it!” South yelled over the radio, and West could see out of the corner of her eye, North and South sprint straight for the massive turrets on the other side of the courtyard. The soldiers guarding the gun didn’t know what hit them, and the twins disabled the automated turrets in less than a minute.

West looked down at York. The bleeding hadn’t stopped yet. It was going to be a pain getting the man to the pelican, which had just pulled up.

“Need some help?” Cerberus peered over the medic’s shoulder. He had driven the blond elite off, forcing her to run off with her soldiers. She’d been rather unprepared for the tailed agent’s ferocity. West nodded, stuffing everything back into the first aid kit before swinging it over her shoulder. Cerberus nodded in response, before bending down to pick up his fellow agent. He started to sprint to the pelican, West trailing closely behind, York’s armour and her newly acquired tomahawks gathered in her arms.

They made it to the pelican in record time, in which York was placed gently into a seat. Everyone else made it to the pelican within the next few seconds, throwing themselves into their seats. West winced in worry, watching York’s head loll around. The pelican took off as soon as everyone threw themselves in, speeding off into the clouds. 

As soon as they levelled out, a resounding boom sounded off in the distance behind them, the shock waves causing the pelican to rock slightly. West almost ripped her harness off, running over to York, where she carefully lowered him to the ground. She found almost everyone hovering worriedly, but she ignored it, instead unwrapping York’s outer bandages to apply a new layer. It didn’t look good. The first layer of bandages had been totally soaked red, smearing blood all over West’s gloves. His vitals were dropping. Not as fast as they were before, but they were still dropping. West swore, opening her first aid kit. She could use her cophenylcaine spray as a mild coagulant, but it wouldn’t do much good to stop wounds as deep as York’s. “York, York, talk to me mate. What about that date you were talking about?”

She squeezed his shoulder, hard. _Trap squeeze, painful stimuli, _her mind rattled off. _No response._ His blood pressure was really, _really_ low. Pulling the man’s helmet off, she placed his head gently on the ground, reapplying the oxygen mask from earlier. _No spinal precautions, still need to place in a neutral position, he can’t maintain his own airway though – OPA? _Rummaging through her bag, she retrieved and administered an OPA – essentially a plastic tube that would maintain York’s airway since he couldn’t do it himself. Okay, she needed to do a baseline set of vitals. She pulled out a notepad, scribbling out the vital signs that she had taken initially. Mumbling to herself, she started to take a new set.

“Bp, 87 on 50, pulse, 120. BSL, 5.6. Pupils… not responding. Resp rate, 7. Oxy sats, 86.” She threw her pad to the side, along with the pen. She had done all she could to stop the bleeding and was keeping an eye on it. She was dealing with the oxygen saturation, although- pulling off the Hudson mask off, she switched it for a non-rebreather and switched the oxyflow meter up to 15 litres. This would burn through the oxygen she _did_ have, but it was needed. She couldn’t do anything for the blood pressure, pulse or resp rate, asides from control his bleeding.

“Will... will he be okay?” North’s face was drawn, pinched tight with worry. West shrugged. That probably seemed a bit callous, but she had to maintain a certain level of… separation from her casualties. She never allowed her emotions to get in the way of her job. She’d worry later. Besides, she was a bit distracted. 

“I’ve stabilised him as best I can, but his vitals are very low. I’ve got the healing unit, so we can use that in an emergency.”

South growled. “Why don’t you just fucking use it now? He’s dying!”

West proceeded to take another set of vitals. He was starting to stabilise, she noted with an internal sigh of relief. “I’ve had men survive much worse than this. He’s critical, but he’s stable. Unless he gets worse, I won’t use it. I only have one. I can probably keep him stable until we get back to base.”

“…probably?” Wash frowned, eyes widening slightly. West closed her mouth and nodded, refocusing. Then she sighed. It was going to be a long trip back…

Thankfully, York had remained in a more or less stable condition for the flight back. The bleeding had mostly stopped, for which West was glad, although she had had to change the bandages several times to get on top of the haemorrhaging. She hadn’t needed to use the healing unit. They were almost back at the Mother of Invention, having flown in a tense, worried silence for most of the trip, occasionally broken by West’s update on York. Carolina was hovering worriedly; she didn’t say anything, just lurking in the doorway to the cockpit, but West made sure to speak loud enough for her to hear. Maybe it would calm some of her worry, although seeing someone you cared about severely injured was incredibly hard to face. West could attest to that.

Doc was on standby with a stretcher, having received West’s radio call from about half an hour ago. He was with his friend and fellow agent, Agent Donut, who was going to help with the stretcher. West hadn’t met him before, but apparently, he was just as odd as the rest of the Agents in his squad.

As the pelican touched down, Doc rushed on board with Donut and the stretcher. West nodded to Doc, and the two of them got to work, with West taking the lead this time. It was near midnight, but the hangar was still crowded, with people bustling around, both working and lingering to catch word of the latest mission. The two medics loaded York up into the stretcher, and with the help of Donut and Cerberus, they picked him up and started to carry him to West’s med bay. As they were carrying him, several of the agents started to follow, before they were intercepted by another soldier, apparently requesting a post-mission debrief. She supposed she’d have to debrief with the team afterwards, a _proper _debrief, not the tense, worried conversation in the back of the pelican.

They reached her med bay quickly, and together, with the help of Doc, Donut and Cerberus, they loaded York into the healing unit. West really hoped this wasn’t going to become commonplace. She didn’t feel like loading people into the healing unit every second day. They had stripped York of his armour, removed the bandages and his under suit, and had left the machine to do its work.

Doc looked over the machine before glancing over at the other medic. She looked dead on her feet, along with the other agent. He smiled. “Go get some rest, West. I’ll look after York.”

She smiled, tiredly, but made sure to give a proper handover to the other medic, as well as handing him the documentation she had written up on the pelican. “Thanks Doc. I owe you one.”

He laughed, making shooing motions with his hands. “Shoo! Go get some sleep. You too, Cerberus.”

The dark grey agent laughed, waved, and made for the door. West smiled and did the same.

“I’ll see you later, Doc. Thanks for the help.”


	6. Chapter 6

It was about six in the morning when West was dragged from her sleep. It had always been like this; she would always sleep rather restlessly after missions. And besides, she was worried about York.

The medic groaned, rubbing her hand over her eyes sluggishly. Breakfast wasn’t for another _hour_. She could try and get back to sleep, but she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to catch much of it. She was still exhausted from having to deal with two injured casualties in such a short period of time, but she shrugged it off. No point in complaining about it.

Sitting up, she grumbled and moved for her armour. Well, if she wasn’t going to get to sleep, she would go check up on York and Doc. Throwing her armour on slowly – it had been left in a discarded pile after yesterday – she made her way to the door. It was dead silent in the corridor, aside from the soft humming and buzzing of machinery. There was the occasional soldier walking by, but other than that, the ship was still, caught in a moment of relative peace. Walking quietly, she made it to the infirmary in only a few minutes, since she didn’t need to contest with other people for the corridor.

It was just as quiet in the infirmary as it was in the hallway. She could see a purple shape in her office, lying down on the bunk in there, and York in the healing unit, his armour piled up in the corner. And, what was this? West couldn’t help but smile at the cyan agent, curled up in a chair that had been dragged over to the healing unit. Carolina was in her Kevlar under suit, armour in the corner next to York’s. She was curled up in the chair, arms wrapped around herself as she slept.

West smiled, and as carefully as she could, pulled a blanket from one of the closets, draping it over her fellow agent. Carolina seemed like the type of person to be a light sleeper, so West was as slow and careful as she possibly could be. Then, with a smile and a shake of her head, she retreated from her med bay, back into the corridor.

At seven, on the dot, West made her way into the mess hall. Being careful not to be seen, she piled up three trays of food before creeping out of the mess. She didn’t want to be reprimanded by the cook, who was a massive, heavy set man who always seemed to have a knife on hand or very close by. She only had two hands, so she had to balance her tray of food on her head with the other two in her hands. It was a tad precarious, but if she walked slowly…

It so happened that West bumped into Wash and North on the way from the mess hall. She turned a corner, and ended up crashing into a very solid person, which happened to be North. She almost dropped her trays, but Wash caught the one on her head while she caught the other two. North looked at the medic and smiled.

“What do we have here?” The blond chuckled as his friend steadied herself. The woman shook her head and grinned. North took the third tray as she re-balanced, with the medic shooting both a grateful smile.

“Carolina’s with York in the med bay. I didn’t think she’s be inclined to leave, so I was going to bring her and Doc some breakfast.” She smiled and leaned back on her right leg, hand on hip with tray in hand. “You guys want to join me?”

Wash chuckled, handing West her tray of food, grinning as she carefully re-balanced it on her head. “Are we becoming a bad influence, West?”

West rolled her eyes. “Are you going to come or not?”

North put a hand on Wash’s shoulder. “Give us ten minutes to get some food for ourselves, and we’ll meet you there. Okay?”

The woman smiled, taking the other trays back. “’Kay, I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

The med bay was the same as how she had left it when she returned, except that Carolina and Doc were now awake, having been woken by the ‘breakfast bell.’ When West walked in, she saw Doc taking a set of York’s vitals, with Carolina looking tiredly on. She didn’t look like she had gotten much sleep, with a subtle set of bags under her eyes. The agent was still as alert as ever, not being one to let a poor night’s sleep to get to her, with the quite whisper of the door alerting the her to the medic.

“West, why do you have a plate of food balanced on your head?” She raised an eyebrow, looking both confused and tired. West smiled, handing on of the plates to her.

“I didn’t think you’d want to leave York on his own.” She turned to Doc, who had finished taking York’s vitals. “Here, I got you a tray too, Doc.”

The other medic smiled, widely. “Thank you West. York’s recovering well. He lost a lot of blood, but his vitals have started to return to normal. He should be fine and waking up soon.”

Carolina frowned, a shadow passing over her face. Ah. West could take a guess at what this was about. “Tucker… he woke up within three hours. Why hasn’t York?”

Both medics sighed, sharing a glance. Doc raised an eyebrow at her, while West shrugged. “Well, York was injured for longer than Tucker before we got him to the healing unit. Comparatively-“ She made a non-committal sound and seesawed her hand back and forth, “Tucker was less seriously injured than York. Both injuries were life-threatening, yes, but York had lost more blood.” She sighed, glancing at Doc. “It’s hard to tell. Some people just react differently. It happens.”

The cyan agent stared at them, intently, before sitting back and nodding, seemingly satisfied. “Thank you.”

West nodded, smiling at the other woman. “Of course.” Turning to Doc, she nodded to York’s prone body. “I should be fine to take over. You can go get some rest and head back to your med bay.”

Doc smiled, murmuring his thanks, before picking up his tray, heading over to perch on one of the beds. Carolina paused before picking up her tray and recrossing her legs underneath her, beginning to eat. She nodded her thanks to West, who smiled. She wanted to wait for North and Wash before eating, to be polite. Speaking of the devil, the two strode in, trays of their own in their hands.

“’Lina! What’s up?” North smiled, walking over to sit next to the other redhead. The woman smiled tiredly.

“I’m fine, North, thank you.”

Wash came over to sit next to West. He smiled at her. “How are you going, West?”

The medic smiled. “I’m alright. Just a bit pooped after yesterday.”

“’pooped’?”

She rolled her eyes, smiled. “Yeah, pooped. Never heard that phrase before?” She laughed. “It means I’m tired, Wash.” She smiled sheepishly, picking at her food. “Sorry, my words can be a bit strange. I confused the _hell _out of everyone in Basic.”

“You were born on Earth, weren’t you?”

The medic nodded. “Yeah. Haven’t been back there in _years_.” She smiled ruefully. “I joined the UNSC, did my medic and nurse training, and left.”

Wash gave her a curious look, scrutinising without appearing too prying. The medic glanced up as the soft conversation fell quiet. Everyone in the med bay was looking at them now. “Why?”

“Hm? Why what?”

“Why did you leave?”

The medic shrugged. “I wanted to actually _do _something. To make a difference. And it just so happened that I was good at keeping my head and saving people.” She smiled. “That’s why I joined the army, anyway. I’ve always been rather patriotic.”

“Why join Project Freelancer though?” North gazed at the medic curiously. Most of the Freelancers had joined the program straight out of the army, and it seemed that the medic was no different. Everyone had their reasons.

“My squad was attacked one day. We were on a recon mission. It was only supposed to be low-key, but we had bad intel and were unprepared. Twelve people, surveying an alien outpost in the forest.” Inhaling softly, she pulled her chin up to look at her friends, _state the facts, it’s in the past, it can’t affect you now… “_Only I survived, and that was only because I got shot in the side and played dead.” She sighed, running her hand through her hair. Glancing back at the agents, she smiled, sadly. “After that, it didn’t feel like the army had anything left for me. So, when the Counsellor approached me, I figured “what the hell” and took the job.” She shrugged. “That’s why I’m here, anyway. Wash, stop looking at me like that. I’m fine.”

Wash frowned, placing a hand on the medic’s shoulder. “You don’t need to do that to yourself, West. We’re here for you if you need us.” North and Doc nodded their assent.

“Yeah, West, don’t be afraid to come to us if you need us.” North smiled. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Yeah!” Doc smiled at his fellow medic. Carolina smiled and nodded.

“You are our medic after all. If we don’t take care of you, who’ll take care of us?”

West blinked. How had she made so many friends in only a few days’ time? Dropping her gaze to the ground, she let a small, almost vulnerable smile bloom on her face, before she re-met their gazes, blinking just a touch too rapidly. “Thank you. Really. That means a lot to me.” She shook her head, trying to dispel the emotion that was clogging her throat. “Shouldn’t you guys get ready for training?”

She chuckled and gave a wry smile when everyone, except Carolina, groaned loudly. North looked like he wanted to smack his face into his hand. “Don’t remind us, West! Besides, you get out of it, since you need to watch over York.”

At that, West grumbled and pulled a face. “It’s so boring though! I can’t do anything while York’s in the healing unit except maybe _clean_ or do _paperwork_.” She flopped on the bed, sighing melodramatically before pointing a finger at Wash and North. “You guys have to come visit later, okay?”

Wash and North chuckled. “Sure. We’ll come visit after training.”

Carolina tutted at the two. “No, you won’t. We have that extended AI class, remember?” She turned her attention to West. “By the way, West, I have some work for you to catch up on. The Counsellor gave it to me to give to you. It’s the final test for your advanced healing unit and AI maintenance.”

West groaned along with Wash and North. Doc just chuckled while Carolina gave them a sly smile. After a moment, the purple medic and cyan agent stood up, trays in hand. Carolina motioned with her head to the door. “Come on you two, we’ve got training to get to. West, I’ll drop your work off on the way to the training hall.”

Wash sighed while North only grinned and waved goodbye at West. “We’ll see you later, West.”

It took her nearly two hours, but West had finally finished the tests that Carolina had dropped off. As preparation for her involvement in Project Freelancer, she had been studying and preparing in advance for the equipment and artificial intelligence that she would receive. She had had a serious amount of work to catch up on, but in the transition period between transferring between the army and Project Freelancer, she had been studying as much as possible so she would be able to use her equipment in the field. The other agents already had their equipment programmed into their armour, but without a suitable AI, could only use it for short periods of time, such as when Cerberus used his cloaking in the battle yesterday.

But once she finished and passed these tests… yes! She was done! With a laugh, the agent stood and stretched gratefully. Walking over to the pneumatic duct, she wrapped her tests up, posting it to the Counsellor. He was expecting it, anyway. With a grin and a nervous laugh, she sent it off with a flourish.

Now that that was over, and provided she got more than 90% correct, she could finally be ready to receive her own AI. Most of the other agents, like North, York and Cerberus were being prepped for their own AI’s at the moment, but West figured it would be a while until she received her own.

She shook her head and smiled. She was damned excited to receive an AI, if not a little bit nervous. Apparently, she was going to receive one that would be able to help her in the field when treating casualties. West didn’t really think she needed help, but it would be nice to have the extra assistance.

Walking over to the bunk next to the healing unit, West sat down, picking up a previously discarded book. She’d already read the old thing a million times over, but it would keep her occupied. It had been a slow day so far, with only two soldiers popping in for band aids. They had been sparring with combat knives and had gotten a bit too excited. West had treated their cuts and had sent them on their way. Otherwise? Pretty quiet.

She had to admit, it was nice to have some peace and quiet, even if her mind revolted slightly at the thought. _Don’t say the ‘q’ word! You’ll jinx it, idiot!_ It was almost serene in the med bay, with only the beeping of the healing unit echoing throughout the room. The medic smiled, chuckled.

This was _her _place.

A few hours later, a small note came through on the pneumo. The _thunk!_ echoed loudly around the room, alerting the medic, who had started to doze off on her bunk in her office. West ran over to it, finding it to be a note from the Counsellor.

_“Dear Agent West Australia, thank you for your tests. You have received 91% for your AI test and 93% for your equipment test. Congratulations. You will now be placed on the waiting list for AI implantation. _

_Have a nice day,_

_Counsellor.”_

West snorted. He even signed his letters with the name ‘Counsellor.’ Really? Then again, she’d probably sign documents here with her agent name, so she couldn’t comment.

But then she laughed, the elation of the moment catching up to her. “Yes! I passed!” Grinning wildly, she spun in a circle, laughing slightly. It was probably an overreaction, but it would mean that she wouldn’t have to retake the test. She was _certainly _grateful for that.

Smiling, she glanced over at the healing unit. York still hadn’t woken up. West wasn’t worried; the man had lost a lot of blood, but it was still a bit unnerving seeing York unconscious like that. She was more used to seeing him smiling and laughing, not dead still in the healing unit. West shook her head. Hopefully he wouldn’t wake up at three in the morning. She _wanted_ to get a decent night’s sleep tonight, probably in her bunk in her office, but whether that would happen or not, who knew?

The medic glanced at the clock and scowled. 1639. She’d missed lunch, having been cooped up in the med bay, watching over York. Oh well, she’d just hassle North and Wash to bring her food when they came to visit.

Speaking of her friends, where were they?

“West! We need your help!”

The medic sighed. _Speak of the devil…_

A moment later after hearing North’s voice, the door slid open, revealing Wash and Cerberus propping up a slightly groggy Maine. West blinked in surprise but went to help the other agents. From what she had seen, Maine seemed like a tough guy, so she supposed it would be difficult to injure him like that. Cerberus seemed to realise what West was thinking, because he sighed and glared at his friend.

“Maine had locking paint on his helmet and ran straight into the training room wall. Sigma, why the _hell_ didn’t you warn him?” Cerberus seemed to snarl the words, staring fixedly at the small, fiery, glowing person that had appeared on Maine’s shoulder. He looked like a tiny devil of some sort.

“Agent Cerberus, Maine did not request my assistance.” The AI, Sigma, tilted his head – was it a he?- at the agent, speaking in a voice that was beginning to freak West out. It sounded like multiple voices at once, but a lot scarier. West shook her head. She needed to help Maine, not get confused about a tiny demon baby AI, even if he was pretty freaky. Walking over to the cupboard on the wall, she pulled out some saline and some gauze, along with a pen light torch. Maine was bleeding on his temple, from a rather large laceration. He must’ve cracked his helmet somehow, resulting in the wound. In the background, Cerberus and Sigma were arguing with one another, with Wash standing a few awkward steps away from them. He raised an eyebrow at West, a silent offer of help, but she shook her head. She didn’t need any. This would be fairly simple.

Walking back to the bed, she instructed Maine to lean back against the wall, shooing Cerberus away from the huge, bald man. The other agent retreated, before perching on another bed, worriedly. Wash hovered nearby, watching. Sigma still sat at Maine’s shoulder, so West instructed him to leave, not before she fixed him with a searching look. _This thing was _freaky_, and I don’t trust it. Be careful. _

“Sigma, I’m going to have to ask you to return to Maine’s armour. You are distracting.”

The red AI nodded; “Of course. My apologies.” Before he disappeared back into the white agent’s armour storage unit. West nodded to herself before she started to clean the cut on the man’s head. He didn’t react, only growled softly. Well, so long as he stayed still, West could treat him fine, and after a few minutes, the medic had finished. She then ran through the procedures for head injuries, checking the man’s pupil reflexes and sight. With nothing apparently unusual, West stepped back and nodded.

“You should be fine, Maine. Just make sure you keep your cut clean and if you start feeling dizzy, nauseous, having double vision or anything out the ordinary, come back at once.” She looked to Cerberus. “Can you keep an eye on him?”

The dark grey agent nodded and smiled, tail flicking nervously. “I’ll make sure he’s okay.” Helping his friend up, he turned back to the medic. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?”

At the mention of food, West’s stomach decided to make itself know. She laughed sheepishly, with Cerberus and Wash giving tight smiles, evidently still worried about Maine. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I would, but I’ve got to look after York.”

Wash smiled, chuckling. “Want us to bring you some food, West?”

“Oh, yes_ please.”_

The other agent grinned and nodded, before turning back to Cerberus. The tailed man nodded, and together with Maine, they started to make their way back – to what West presumed – was the training hall. West shook her head. “Don’t do anything stupid, you three!”

Cerberus gave her a thumbs up, while Wash yelled back, “No promises!”


	7. Chapter 7

As the days passed, West found herself slipping into a routine. York had woken after the second day, thankfully – he had been totally confused and disorientated, as he didn’t remember falling unconscious. West had explained everything to him, but otherwise, he was fine, being able to answer all of her questions, within reason, and with all his vital signs in the normal ranges, West was happy to clear him for the moment. The scarred freelancer had been swamped in the med bay after West announced that he had woken up, with plenty of people coming to see if he was alright. West had to shoo most of them off, as they were loud, dirty and were cluttering up her med bay.

She scowled as she swept up the dirt that littered the ground. Most of the freelancers had popped in at some point to say hello and seemed to have brought _all the dirt on the ship._ The medic grumbled as she swished the broom. York had left that morning, with West having declared him fit for duty again. Carolina had come to pick him up.

She had to say, it was entertaining watching York around Carolina. He really did seem rather love-struck, and West could spy a blush on the man as she told him what he had started rambling when he had been injured. West grinned wickedly, making eye contact with her friend, who had given her a hard stare. She laughed, smiling fondly. She did love teasing people sometimes, and those two, while not overt, seemed to care a hell of a lot about each other. She’d even heard rumours of a betting pool!

But now that York had left the med bay, things had become rather quiet again. As she had said, she seemed to be falling into a routine; wake up, go to breakfast, head to the med bay, stuff around until she was needed, get lunch, stuff around more, go to dinner then go to bed. But now that the med bay had quieted down and the next mission wasn’t for a few days, West was being made to go to training with the other freelancers.

West had to say, she wasn’t looking forward to it. She wasn’t used to training with people, or at least, she hadn’t trained with others in a very long time, ever since she first joined the UNSC. And, the idea of the training board annoyed her. They were supposed to be working together, not creating a divide between them. Some competition was good, and healthy. This… this was extreme. She shook her head and scowled. At least she would be with her friends.

Apparently, Carolina usually ran the training with the freelancers, so West knew that everyone was going to be put through their paces. She didn’t think she’d get a free run because she was the new kid – she wasn’t _that _naive. In the training hall, at 0800 on the dot, most of the freelancers were milling around, waiting for everyone else to rock up.

West wandered in, not really expecting what was going to happen. As soon as Carolina entered, she started yelling orders and instructions, with the medic eyeing up her injured ankle. To West’s satisfaction, she looked like she was keeping out of training, resting her injury to her thinly veil annoyance. The cyan agent had come in the day after the mission, asking for painkillers. The woman had aggravated it, but West wasn’t surprised. Carolina didn’t seem like the woman to do things by halves, and the amount of running from the mission would have placed a fair bit of stress on her system.

“Oi, Carolina! Why the hell aren’t you training?!” South yelled at the cyan agent as she started off everyone with thirty laps around the training hall. Carolina scowled at the purple agent as they ran past. She was sitting down, helmet next to her on the ground. “What gives you an excuse?”

West rolled her eyes, calling out to the purple agent. “I did, South. Carolina sprained her ankle and pushed it a bit too hard the other day. I’m making her rest for a few days.” She paused, puffing. God, her stamina was shit. “So that means, _no training_.”

South scowled, shaking her head. Thankfully, the blond woman didn’t argue. After they had finished their laps, FILLIS opened a compartment, revealing several massive weights attached to the wall. West scowled as most of the freelancers headed to their weights of choice. The medic saw Maine go for the massive dumbbells, which must’ve been at least 150 kilograms. Holy _shit. _She winced at that, but cautiously picked up the 25-kilogram dumbbells. Carolina was at a wall terminal, fiddling with something, when suddenly, dubstep was being blasted through the room. She didn’t have to say anything for the freelancers to begin using the weights; most of them had already memorised the routine since Carolina ran the same routine. Every. Single. _Damned_. **_Time_**. Since West hadn’t done the training before, she hung around at the back, watching the other Freelancers. She could already feel her arms beginning to ache. Oh god. This was gonna kill her, wasn’t it?

West had to say, she _hated _training. When she stumbled into the classroom afterwards, she almost collapsed on the desk that she had been assigned to, groaning pitifully. Cerberus sat next to her with a slight laugh and nudged her shoulder slightly. She groaned and grumbled at the dark green and grey agent who just laughed. Laughed!

“I hate you.”

Cerberus grinned, poking the medic in the shoulder. “What’s wrong, West? Tired?” The woman just grumbled and said nothing, cradling her head in her arms. She wasn’t weak, by any means, but ugh, Carolina’s training was _intense. _She shook her head and chuckled, smiling ruefully. She supposed she would get used to it, and they needed to be in shape to fight.

The chatter in the room finished as the Director stalked in, the Counsellor a step behind. West had been studying the AI course independently, so it would be interesting to see what learning in a classroom would be like. Over the past week or so, including the day when West had arrived, the freelancers had been cleared to recieve their AI’s, but only a handful of the agents had had their AI’s implanted. York was receiving his today, which was why the scarred agent was absent from the small classroom. North was supposed to receive his soon, along with Cerberus. Carolina had already received an AI but had instead given Sigma to Maine to help him communicate after he was shot in the throat multiple times during a mission. That had been the AI West had met when Wash and Cerberus had brought the huge agent in the other day. West shivered slightly. She hoped that her AI wouldn’t be as creepy as Sigma. She wasn’t sure if she could deal with something like that in her head.

“Agents, today we will be talking about the concept of AI rampancy. If you look down at your screens, you’ll see the four stages…” The Counsellor started the lesson with a monotonous voice. West groaned internally. This was going to be really boring…

West was sure she was starting to doze off sitting upright - apparently Grif was the master at that, according to Wash - when her radio crackled loudly, alerting her to an incoming radio call. She scrambled up, just as everyone turned to stare at the medic. The Director turned his piercing green –eyed gaze towards the woman. “Agent West Australia, you are interrupting this class. You are supposed to turn your radio off during these sessions.”

West resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead clicking on her radio, letting it echo around the classroom. Everyone fell silent as Doc’s voice – along with gunshots and the roar of a pelican – shouted through the communication device. “West, West! Can you hear me?!”

“Doc, I am receiving you loud and clear.”

“Oh, thank god. I need you to be on immediate standby! I’ve got two critical patients – Simmons, keep that pressure on Grif’s neck! Tucker, stay still and keep that pelican steady! Junior will be fine, _once I’m done with him!” _Halfway through, Doc’s voice changed to a more crazed, frantic version of itself. What the hell? “O’Malley, I _don’t _have time for this!”

“Doc, stay calm. What equipment do you want me to get?”

“Be prepared for bullet wounds and plasma burns.” Abruptly, the radio started to blank out. “Sarge, something’s happening with the –“

West swore, jumping up. “Shit!” She tried activating her radio, but she couldn’t get a clear signal. “Of for fuck’s sake! Doc, Doc, come in. Can you read me?”

There was no response. West swore and ran her hands through her hair. “Director, what mission were the Reds and Blues going on?”

The Director was very stony-faced. He didn’t seem worried, rather angry. “They were on a mission to retrieve alien technology from an abandoned planet.”

The Counsellor continued with the Director’s comment. “We received intelligence that one of the planets in the outer systems may have been the location for an alien base. We sent Agent Tucker and his son with their squad to investigate. It seems that they encountered some resistance.”

“No shit, mate!” West turned towards the door, noticing Wash’s soft noise of worry, as if he wanted to speak out but shut himself off. “Do you know when they may arrive back?”

The Counsellor frowned, annoyed at the Agent’s language. “No.”

“Okay. I’m going to go be on standby. I may need some help, so I’m going to have to take some Agents with me.”

Both the Councillor and Director stared at the medic, before the Director nodded stiffly. “You may take Agent Cerberus, Agent Maine and Agent North.”

West nodded. “Okay, come on, we need to get some equipment.” The three agents nodded and stood, following West as she hurried out the door.

In the med bay, West hurried around, collecting any equipment that she believed might be helpful. North waited by the door while Cerberus sat on one of the beds, Maine standing next to his friend. They had mostly been silent until then, when North piped up. “You know, West, you probably shouldn’t act like that around the Director and the Counsellor. They didn’t seem very happy with your attitude.”

West shrugged as she picked up a scoop stretcher before tossing it to North. “I’m not bothered about what they think of me. They hired me for my skills, not my attitude.” She smiled as she picked up another scoop stretcher. “Besides, their attitudes aren’t the best either.”

North shook his head and smiled, while Maine growled in something like… agreement? “Can’t argue with that. But… still. Neither of them like… dissent, or people arguing against them.” The blond man gave a tense exhale, brows drawn. "I'm just a bit worried. I get enough of that with South, I don't need to have that with you."

West paused, hand stilling over her bag. “Yeah, I know I’m being a bit… reckless, I guess, talking to them like that. But I can’t _not _talk to the Director like that. People are injured! I… I need to make sure that I can help Doc and his crew to the best of my ability. He called _me. _Everyone heard the call. I need to help.”

The blond man fixed her with a stern gaze, a touch of warmth in his eyes, mixed with a tinge of unease. “I understand, but they might not. Just, be careful, alright? Now, shouldn’t we get down to the hanger?”

The medic smiled, swinging her pack over her shoulder. Walking past North, she clapped him on the shoulder, Cerberus and Maine standing to shadow her. “Yeah. Come on.”


	8. Chapter 8

The hanger was as busy as it usually was. The hangar operation managers had prepared an area for the Reds and Blues, a cordoned off area, big enough to fit a pelican plus a bit more, and now everyone was just waiting for the pelican to come back. West sighed, sitting tiredly on a massive metal box with North. Cerberus and Maine were lounging around on the ground, communicating through their… growling? She wasn’t gonna question it. They had been there for just over an hour.

“How long are we going to be here for? It’s getting close to dinner.” Cerberus grumbled, leaning dejectedly against his huge friend. Maine just kind of sat there solidly, allowing the sandy blond to fiddle with his armour absentmindedly whilst simultaneously using him as a pillow. West exhaled and smiled.

“You guys can go get dinner if you want. I’ll stay here, but if they show up, you’ll need to come back right away.” West smiled as North stood up and groaned, stretching. Cerberus and Maine stood as well, albeit more slowly and quietly. North smiled at West.

“Do you want us to bring some food for you on our way back?”

The medic shook her head and smiled. “It’s alright, I can wait. I’ll get some food later.”

The purple agent shrugged. “Up to you. We’ll be back soon.” Together, the three male agents made their way to the door, in the direction of the mess hall. West sighed and rested her cheek heavily against her palm. She wasn’t sure when Doc and his crew would arrive, so she would wait as long as she needed to.

“West. West, come on, wake up!” She could hear a voice talking to her as she was roughly shaken awake. Grumbling, she swiped at the person, pawing at them, uncoordinated from just being woken. Sitting up, she saw Wash and North watching her worriedly.

“Oh, hey guys, what’s up?” She rubbed her eyes tiredly, checking the time. Just past midnight. Ugh, she must’ve fallen asleep waiting for the pelican. She would’ve woken up if it was here. Wash and North looked rather worried though, so West sat up straighter, shaking herself awake. “Guys, what happened?”

North frowned, his face looking uncharacteristically gloomy. “The Reds and Blue’s pelican… it hasn’t returned. It should’ve been here by now. The Director’s calling an emergency meeting in the war room. We were sent to get you.” Uh-oh. That couldn’t be good. West nodded, stood, picking up her equipment. Wash and North helped silently, taking a stretcher each.

Together, they made their way to the war room, where the other Freelancers, Director and Counsellor were waiting, grouped around the holographic table in the centre. Surprisingly, York was there, along with a tiny, glowing green figure hovering next to his shoulder. That must’ve been his new AI. West, North and Wash filed in silently, and a space in the circle opened for them. Once everyone was present, the Counsellor began speaking.

“As you are aware, the Red and Blue squad was on a mission to retrieve abandoned alien technology from an unnamed planet in the outer colonies. We had received intelligence that there was technology similar to Agent Tucker’s energy sword that could possibly be reverse engineered into weapons that may be used against the Covenant forces in the Great War. Yesterday was the last known contact with the pelican, in which Medic DuFresne contacted Agent West Australia to request that she remain on standby to prepare for emergency casualties. Transmission cut off halfway through.”

The Counsellor paused, allowing the Director to explain the rest of the information. “This will be a retrieval mission, Agents. As the Covenant are not known for taking prisoners alive, we need to retrieve the armour and enhancements of the Agents that were on the mission-“

“Excuse me, Sir?” West turned to look at Wash, who was crossing his arms. He looked like he was thinking about something, brow crinkling with both concern and whatever he was considering. The Director turned his steely gaze on Wash, who only looked at the older man squarely.

“Do you have something to add, Agent Washington?”

“Sir, I don’t believe that they would be killed by the Covenant. Or, at least, not immediately.”

“What makes you say that, Washington?” The Counsellor turned his own, cool gaze towards the grey and yellow agent. Wash’s frown deepened.

“Well, they had Junior with them, and Tucker, too. I doubt they’d try kill one of their own, especially a youngster, and Tucker knows their language. So, they should be able to communicate with them.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if that’ll help, but it might give us a chance. I think they’ll still be alive.”

Looking around the table, West could see the other agents nodding in agreement. The Director frowned and continued with the debriefing. “Until it is proven otherwise, assume the Red and Blue agents are dead. Is that _understood_?” Giving a cold look to everyone around the table, he continued; “We cannot afford to lose these sets of armour. Set aside your emotions, and _focus on the mission. _Anyone who cannot do that will be removed.”

Silence fell, a tense, writhing thing that West could almost see between the agents and the Director. The Reds and Blues were _friends_ with the freelancers, especially Wash, Tex and Carolina! How could the Director ask that? Seemingly indifferent to the tension permeating the room, the Director continued, “We will take two pelicans. Agent Carolina, you will take Agent Washington, Agent York, Agent Cerberus, Agent Texas and Agent West Australia, where you will track down and recover the lost armour. Delta knows their last known location and will inform you when you get on board. Agent North, you will take Agent South, Agent Florida, Agent Wyoming and Agent Maine, where you will investigate the planet’s surface and attempt to retrieve any alien technology that you can find. Both pelicans will leave as soon as possible. Is that understood?”

Everyone nodded their assent.

It was dead silent inside the pelican, with the occasional creak and groan of the pelican breaking the monotony. The group had been flying for nearly an hour, but they still had three hours until they reached the last known location of the Reds and Blues. Delta, the new AI, had been in the cockpit for about half an hour, discussing plans with Four-Seven-Niner and Carolina, while the rest of the Agents sat rather quietly. West could understand why. They were going to recover equipment from an unknown location with the possibility of encountering Covenant forces. They didn’t know if their friends were even _alive_.

West sighed forlornly, resting her head on the back of the seat. She’d had actual time to pack for this mission, rather than doing a rush job like the last time. She’d also brought along her new tomahawks. West couldn’t lie; she was looking forwards to testing them out with an almost sick sort of glee. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that.

Rather abruptly, her stomach growled. Loudly, she might’ve added. Grumbling, she groaned to herself, smacking her face with the palm of her hand. She’d forgotten to eat dinner! She scowled at Wash as she heard him chuckle to her left, sticking her tongue out in retaliation.

“Hungry, West?”

“Oh, shut up. I forgot to eat dinner.”

York smiled from across the seats. “Maybe Wash has some food he’d like to share; test out how efficient the armour’s drainage system is?”

Wash scowled at his friend. “Oh, shut up, you asshole.”

Everyone chuckled as the atmosphere within the pelican began to lighten somewhat. West just shook her head and smiled when something like a protein bar nearly hit her in the head. She glanced over at Cerberus who was smiling sheepishly with several bars in his hands. Where on earth had he gotten them from…?

“I swiped them from the mess hall. You know, to be prepared.” The sandy blond chuckled, throwing another bar to West, who tore into them gratefully. They tasted like sandpaper and had a quality like rocks, but food was food. She couldn’t be picky.

“Thanks, Cerberus.”

“No problem.”

“West. Can I ask you a few questions about the War?” The silent, intimidating blond in the corner piped up, watching the medic with clear blue eyes. Texas. She hadn’t said a single word the entire trip.

West blinked but nodded. “Yeah, sure. What do you want to know?”

Tex smiled, slightly, which probably surprised most of the freelancers in the pelican. “You’ve fought aliens before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Can you tell us what we might be walking into? You probably have the most experience in dealing with the Covenant than any of us.”

That was true. She’d looked over a couple of the past mission logs and almost the entirety of the missions had revolved around fighting humans, not aliens. Information was all well and good, but sometimes firsthand experience was the best. “It depends on if the Reds and Blues will be held on a ship or on the planet which they were exploring. The ships are extremely powerful. We’ll need to watch out for their defences when we get closer.”

“Have you ever infiltrated one of their ships?”

West winced. She had, but the mission had ended in almost complete failure. They’d lost nearly three quarters of their men, and that had been with a Spartan fighting with them. _She’d_ almost died trying to save the men that had the best chance of surviving. Thankfully, the red Spartan had managed to save the rest of their crew but had sacrificed themselves in the process. West didn’t think she had met a more noble person. “Yes, but it… it didn’t end well.”

Tex softened slightly, offering a sad smile. She’d probably seen a lot of similar shit. “I’m sorry.”

West shook her head. “It’s okay. But, yeah, we managed to get in with the help of a Spartan. We were supposed to blow the ship up. We did, but the Spartan sacrificed themselves to save us.”

Most of the freelancers blinked at the medic in shock. “You served with a Spartan?!” Wash seemed unbelievably surprised at that fact. West smiled.

“Yeah, but only for a few missions. That’s how I know how to use this armour, mainly. The squad I served with used a similar model.” She paused, recollecting her thoughts. “The Covenant, it isn’t one species of alien, though. There’s a fair few different types, but they aren’t too hard to fight. Elites are the ones you’ve gotta watch out for. They have weapons like Tucker’s and can turn invisible.”

York groaned. “You’re kidding.”

West shook her head with a wry smile. “Nope.”

Soon after, the atmosphere within the pelican became tense and gloomy again. West wasn’t sure what they would find. And the other group too – what would they find? They had apparently reached the planet and had spotted the massive Covenant ship in the outer atmosphere, hovering around. They were still nearly an hour away from Doc’s last message, but Carolina had decided to prep the freelancers on what they were going to do, now that they knew that they needed to infiltrate the massive ship.

“Four-Seven-Niner can’t risk getting the pelican any closer to the surface of the planet, so we’re going to have to use jetpacks to get there. Everyone’s used jetpacks before, yes?” Everyone nodded, Wash more gloomily than others, “Okay, good. When we encounter the ship, we’ll have to attempt to bypass their shields to get inside. Delta, any ideas?”

The little green AI appeared at York’s shoulder. “From information Agent West Australia has told me, along with information from the freelancer databases, we should be able to bypass the shields by initiating a discharge of one of their plasma cannons.”

Everyone paused. Then York piped up: “Delta, did you say, ‘initiating a discharge?’”

“Yes, York, that is correct. If we manage to make one of the cannons fire, the ship will have to lower its shields so they can fire without destroying their own shields. Or do damage to their own ship.”

“Well, shit.” Wash pulled a face.

Tex looked back at West. “You had to do something similar, didn’t you?”

The medic nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. It nearly killed us. We… ah, well, we barely got through. Once the cannons fire, you have to be _unbelievably_ quick.” She rubbed her right eye, tiredly. She was not looking forward to fighting the Covenant, especially since her last squad had been murdered in front of her. Wash nudged her foot and gave her a reassuring look, touching her arm slightly.

West smiled slightly and shook her head, before looking at Wash. She’d be fine. At least, she’d have to hold it together until they got back their agents. Then she could worry or stress or freak out. She’d do that later. Yes. Carolina also gave West a tight smile. She had read West’s report and after talking to the medic, had seen how much the death of her squad affected her, as much as she didn’t admit it.

“We were talking about it earlier, and Four-Seven-Niner has volunteered to act as a distraction while we get ourselves into the ship.”

There was a short pause before a strangled “What?!” came from the cockpit of the pelican.

Carolina just sighed and shook her head. “No arguments, Four-Seven-Niner. We must get inside. And I have faith in your ability to not get hit. You’ll get the ship to fire at least once, and then you will rendezvous with us once we retrieve either the equipment or the agents. West, you have your equipment?” The medic nodded. “Okay. We’ll split off into two groups. One group will act as a distraction while the other goes to retrieve the Reds and Blues. I’ll go with the second group. We’ll look for the Reds and Blues. West and Cerberus, you’ll come with me. Tex, York and Wash, you guys can cause a distraction. Understood?”

“What sort of distraction, Lina?” York looked slightly concerned at Wash and Tex who both nodded. It was surprising that Tex was agreeing so readily with Carolina’s orders, given what York had told West about their feud. Those two were _far _too competitive, but she supposed that the safety of their friends came first.

“Whatever attracts a lot of attention. I don’t know, break stuff. You’re good at that, York.”

“Hey!”

“She’s not wrong, you know,” Wash snickered at his friend, who gave him a wounded, betrayed look.

“Okay, are you guys ready? We’ll be leaving the pelican soon.”

Everyone nodded. They weren’t too far away from Doc’s last location, and a compartment in the side of the pelican opened to reveal a number of jetpacks. Carolina tossed one to everyone, so West attached it to her back with the strong magnets in the back plate. She also slung her first aid kit over her shoulder. She wasn’t worried about losing it. It was made of really strong material, some sort of fabric, but it was heavy duty. Then, she attached her tomahawks to her back.

Good. She was ready to go.

A resounding boom echoed around the pelican, accompanied by a flash of glowing purple. Oh, shit. This was bringing back _several_ bad memories, so she quickly switched to her breathing exercises. _Just until we jump. I’ll be fine after that. Come on West! _

The plane dipped sharply, missing another shot. How had the ship spotted them so quickly? On Carolina’s mark, the six of them rushed out the back of the pelican. It seemed like that they were having to accelerate their plans slightly, and the six freelancers sped towards the Covenant ship. West could see the plasma shield from here, sealing itself up. She also noticed the other plasma cannon beginning to glow, so she started to accelerate her jetpack towards the cannon, everything within her screaming to _run_. As West began to divert from the group, Carolina glanced over to see the medic heading to the now blinding cannon. As quickly as she could, she began to follow the woman, understanding what she was doing. Everyone else followed suit, and the cannon fired a moment later.

West pushed her jetpack as hard it would go, managing to slip inside the shield’s interior with plenty of time left. She nearly crashed into the side of the ship, but instead landed on the purple metal, locking herself onto the hull with her magnetic boots. They managed to stick, thankfully. Carolina landed a moment later, with Wash crashing a few metres behind her. Tex landed silently, with Cerberus and York landing last, just as gracefully as Wash. Carolina took the lead instantly, motioning everyone to an opening in the side of the ship, where it appeared that vehicles were released. The group made it through the barrier with no effort, although West wouldn’t be surprised if their presence would be noticed and repelled soon.

The hangar was in a state of utter chaos. Grunt aliens were running everywhere, seemingly panicking. They also had their plasma weapons, so the instant they saw the freelancers, they opened fire. Thankfully, there seemed to be an artificial gravity field like the gravity on earth, so the moment West’s boots touched the ground, she pulled her tomahawks out and followed Carolina, who was sprinting to a door on the far side of the room. Cerberus bounded besides her, keeping pace almost effortlessly with her sprinting. She could hear Wash, York and Tex yelling to each other over their radios as they began to mow through the grunts, with Tex doing most of the killing. West could see her from the corner of her eye, a black shadow that killed every alien that moved. The medic shook her head. That woman was _lethal. _Thank god she was on their side.

A needler’s spike shattered against West’s helmet as the three made it through the doorway. The impact knocked her forwards, sprawling across the ground. Carolina swore and slid over to the medic, inspecting the integrity of the woman’s helmet. It was intact. Thank god for her armour! Letting out a quick exhale in relief, she hauled the medic to her feet. “West, are you okay?”

The medic nodded, stiff in her movements, but after a moment, she began moving more fluidly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you two okay?” Both agents nodded, and West closed her eyes for a moment in relief. Thank _fuck_ for their armour. She’d said it before and would probably say it again. It was strong enough to resist most of the alien’s attacks, but West knew that if she was hit in the weaker spots in her armour, it would not end well. Cerberus and Carolina both gave sharp nods, and they set off down the hallway, a sense of dread settling into her stomach.

She hoped that the Reds and Blues were okay.


	9. Chapter 9

Once the three had made it a little way into the ship, Carolina let Cerberus guide the trio. He was much more adept than either of them at infiltrating an enemy ship, given his experience with mechanics and the Mother of Invention’s inner workings. The three were mainly communicating through hand signals; their helmets weren’t exactly soundproof, and West didn’t exactly feel like getting into a fight with an elite or brute or whatever they were called. The black and green freelancer had directed them into an air vent, since it would be much harder to detect the three. West grumbled at the freelancers crammed themselves into the tiny opening. She was in the middle, with Cerberus in the front and Carolina bringing up the end, and her first aid kit was making it very hard to move at anything faster than a crawl, since she had to shove it forwards a metre or two every time she moved forwards and it was a _pain in the ass. _

To be honest, she had no idea where they were. She could hear the echoing screams of aliens dying, which almost rang through the air vent, but as they continued deeper into the ship, the medic eventually lost all bearing of their location.

After a while, Cerberus stopped, peering down into a room below them. Then, with an almost inhuman speed, he slipped through the vent, killing whatever was in the room. West jumped down a moment later to find three dead grunts on the ground and Cerberus at what seemed to be a computer terminal. He was typing quickly, and a moment later a holographic map appeared, hovering over the alien computer. Carolina landed on the ground a moment later.

“How the hell did you do that?!” West was… flabbergasted, honestly. She’d never met anyone who could hack alien technology. It was impressive. Cerberus smiled, sheepishly.

“I’m good with computers. The Director made me learn how to from documents we picked up.” The blond turned back to the terminal. “This is a map of the ship. According to the computer’s AI, the Reds and Blues should be right… here.” He motioned to a glowing room, only a few hallways down from where they were now, according to Cerberus. He returned to the computer, typing something else on the holographic buttons. After a moment, the man straightened up, nodding to himself.

“You downloaded the map to your armour?” Carolina crossed her arms, watching the other freelancer. He nodded, and her posture relaxed somewhat. “Okay, good.” Pausing, as if considering something, the cyan agent pulled a data chip from a pocket on her armour. “Can you download everything onto this data chip?”

Cerberus paused for a moment, before nodding. “I can, but alien tech doesn’t usually react well with our technology. I even had trouble converting this map into a format I could actually use.”

Carolina sighed. “Please, Cerberus? As much as you can.”

The male agent shrugged before returning to the terminal. “Since the terminal doesn’t have a port for the data chip, I’m going to download everything into my armour’s storage unit before transferring it onto the data chip. It might take a few minutes. No promises that I’ll be able to get anything useful.”

Both female freelancers nodded, with West watching Cerberus work and Carolina positioning herself by the door with her battle rifle raised. It was fascinating watching Cerberus type, since West couldn’t read or write the alien languages used by the Covenant. She could speak it though. At one point, her squad managed to capture an elite alien, and it had been with them for a few months as a prisoner. With the help of a few other people in the squad, they had managed to learn a basic understanding of the alien’s language, Sanghelili, allowing the medic and the elite to communicate. It was surprising, after being able to communicate with the elite, to find that he was an exile. After fleeing from a major battle, he was afraid to go back to his people since they seemed to revere battle and one’s honour. The two had eventually become friends, but had parted ways a while ago, when West’s squad had been reassigned to a new post. She didn’t know where he was or where he had gone, but he had been a decent bloke, having saved West’s life several times.

But not all aliens in the Covenant were that forgiving. West knew that well enough and had plenty of scars to prove it. The medic lifted her head as something like an intercom activated from some sort of speaker in the wall. It started spewing garbled noise before West was able to make out the noise into actual works. Sanghelili. They were speaking in Sanghelili.

“What are they saying, Cerberus?” Carolina looked over to the black and green agent, but the man was too busy in his terminal to notice the cyan agent talking to him. West listened intently for a moment before shaking her head and giving a short laugh.

“Bloody hell. Of course. What else would you expect?”

Carolina narrowed in on West. “You can understand their language?”

The medic nodded, smiling. “The Reds and Blues have escaped from their cells. That’s why everything is so chaotic now. It seems like… they were trying to get back to us, when their pelican got recaptured.”

“…what?” Carolina gave West what appeared to be a disbelieving look through her helmet before she shrugged, laughing in disbelief. “Actually, knowing them, I’m not surprised. Did it say anything else?”

West paused, just as another announcement came on. “They’re… in the armoury, I think. Cerberus?”

“Hmm?” He raised his head, slightly, with his attention still locked on the terminal. He pressed a final button on the holographic terminal before looking up, fixing them with his full attention. “What’d you say, West?”

“The Reds and Blues are in the armoury. Can you lead us there?”

Cerberus paused, looking at the medic. “You can understand Sanghelili?”

West sighed, exasperated. “Yes, I can understand Sanghelili. The armoury?”

“Oh, yes.” He paused, probably looking at the map on his HUD display. “It’s not too far away. If we take the air vent… yeah, I can get us there.”

Carolina nodded, stiffly. “Right, let’s go.”

It must’ve been nearly twenty minutes crawling through those goddamn vents, stuck behind Cerberus and stuck in front of Carolina. West swore, that once she got out of this stupid place, she was never doing anything like this again, after she bumped her head accidentally against the top of the vent for what seemed to be the sixtieth time. Of course, it didn’t hurt, given her helmet, but it was extremely _annoying_. And cramped. And small. _Ugh, she wasn’t small enough to be crawling around like this!_

Thankfully, according to Cerberus, they were near the armoury. West could have gathered that herself, given the amount of noise they were crawling towards. Yelling and screaming were the main sources of noise, mainly in the alien language. West just grumbled to herself. In her experience, running away from the battlefield was preferable to running _towards_ the battlefield.

A couple turns later, and they were directly above the armoury, as Cerberus stopped, paused, and kicked open a vent before jumping down into the room. Yells of surprise echoed from the room as West and Carolina jumped down a moment later.

The medic had to say, the Reds and Blues were sure as hell happy to see the three freelancers. West was happy to see the group, and she was pleased to note that everyone seemed to be alive. Well, mostly alive. A man, who West remembered to be Grif, was lying on the ground, bandages wrapped around his face and neck. Doc looked up before rushing over to his fellow medic.

“West! Oh, thank god! I need your help.”

West nodded, coming over to crouch next to the purple medic. Donut and Simmons were hovering anxiously, with Sarge and Church covering the door, with Caboose hovering nearby with his battle rifle he called Freckles, who used to be a mantis class assault droid. Tucker was tending to what seemed to be an alien baby? Why was it with the Reds and Blues? Wait, hadn’t Wash said that Tucker had a kid?

That didn’t matter. Cerberus went straight over to the pair, beginning to talk to Tucker in a quiet tone. West refocused on Grif. Doc had stabilised the tanned and slightly overweight man, but blood still seemed to be seeping through the layers of bandages. That was never a good sign.

Placing her first aid kit on the ground next to them, West pulled out some fresh supplies before helping Doc reapply Grif’s bandages. Sarge yelled something at the two from the door. “Are you two done lollygagging or can we get going?”

“Just a minute, Sarge! We need to re-bandage Grif’s injuries.” Doc retorted back to the gruff agent. He just scowled, shaking his head and muttering something about letting Grif die, although it wasn’t delivered with the zeal that it normally was. Was… was that Sarge’s way of showing concern? West shook her head in disbelief; the weirdness of these people would never stop astounding her. Within a minute, she’d finished tying the crepe bandage, while Grif mumbled something incoherent. Well, he was still making noise, so that was better than nothing, she supposed. She wanted to interrogate Doc on Grif’s injuries and vitals, but they could walk and talk. They really needed to go, and she'd follow Doc's lead. This was his patient, not hers.

Carolina came over to the medics before shrugging and picking Grif up and slinging him over her shoulder. West opened her mouth to exclaim before she winced. That was certainly_ not_ the correct way to transport a patient! Doc seemed to be reflecting West’s expression, from his squawk of indignation. But, from what the others had told her, Grif was unbelievably heavy, so Carolina was probably the only person strong enough to lift the heavy man. Tucker picked up the injured baby alien, cradling it… or was it a him? Anyway, Tucker was carrying the alien.

“Sarge, Simmons, Donut, I need you to clear a path for us. Cerberus, protect Tucker, since he has his hands full with Junior. Caboose, stay near Church. Church, stop grumbling! West, I’ll need you to watch my back, since I can’t move my arms. Doc, follow behind us. Is that understood?” Carolina shifted Grif into a more comfortable position on her shoulders, and everyone could feel her steely gaze through her helmet’s visor. West nodded before packing everything back into her first aid kit. She slung the bag over her shoulder before pulling out her tomahawks to nod, again, at Carolina.

Sarge was positioned at the door, and with a sharp nod at Simmons and Donut, motioned for the maroon and pink solders to open the door. It slid open silently. It seemed to almost surprise the aliens when a plasma grenade was thrown into their faces, but West supposed that they were too dead to care. Sarge and Simmons finished off the remaining few grunts, Sarge blasting them to high hell with his shotgun and Simmons using a plasma rifle scavenged from the alien armoury. Caboose just trailed after Church, thankfully staying quiet. He was a good fighter, when he needed to be, and _really fucking strong, holy shit,_ but to West, Caboose seemed to have a few ‘roos loose in the top paddock, as they'd say back home. Cerberus took the lead after that, with Tucker trailing close behind with Junior in his arms, since Cerberus had the only map. West was last, just behind Carolina, who had Grif slung over her shoulder. If she was uncomfortable, she didn’t complain. West shook her head. The other redhead was a bloody stubborn woman. 

Moving as quickly as they could, they were halfway back to the hangar when they ran into some… trouble. _Ah, shit. This wasn’t good_. Several elite Sanghelios were blocking the corridor, energy swords glowing very, _very_ bright, snarling in their native tongue. Sarge opened fire with his shotgun and Donut threw another plasma grenade, but the three aliens jumped to the side, dodging both attacks. They were much stronger than humans and had much faster reflexes than humans and made for some deadly enemies. West growled in frustration. She really didn’t feel like dealing with this!

It seemed that Cerberus didn’t feel like dealing with it either, as he let out a ferocious snarl before sprinting forwards, almost tearing through one of the aliens with his combat knife. Shoving her way to the front, West sprinted at the aliens as well, throwing her tomahawks as hard as she could. While it didn’t kill the alien, the medic jumped at the huge elite, and with her momentum, she managed to slam him to the ground with her feet. The alien moved to throw her off, but West slammed her foot onto the already impaled tomahawk, effectively splitting the elite’s head open. The sight made her lurch slightly, but she shoved it down as she rushed to help Cerberus, who was grappling with the other two elites, one of which who was almost dead. West finished that one off while Cerberus killed the other elite, leaving the two freelancers panting from exertion. It was not easy to kill elites, but thankfully, Cerberus was ruthless, and West had done it before.

They shared a glance before Cerberus nodded to West. He then started off quickly, again, and the group continued. West dropped to the back of the group, behind Carolina again, who gave her a sharp nod. West just sighed as the cyan agent started to radio Four-seven-niner to call for an immediate evac, due to the group’s proximity to the hanger. She really wanted off this goddamn ship.

They made it to the hangar a few minutes later to find the artificial gravity turned off. Carolina just yelled Wash’s name, as if that explained everything, and his strained “sorry!” came yelled from the other end of the hangar. West supposed that was a story for another time. Tex had effectively killed everything in the hangar except for an alien tank that was now taking pot-shots at the three freelancers, who were either running from the blasts or hiding.

West could see Wash and York behind a purple alien ship called a ghost, and Tex was sprinting around the tank, trying to get on top of it. Carolina grumbled something before she sprinted towards the tank, using her magnetic boots to remain firmly attached to the ground. She had dropped Grif, who began floating, leaving him to the anti-gravity field, while she and Tex seemed to almost compete to destroy the tank. West just rolled her eyes and made her way to a massive alien ship near the front of the hangar, Cerberus in tow. She didn’t exactly feel like waiting for their pelican to arrive, since it would be another twenty minutes for Four-seven-niner to get there, and anything could happen in that time.

“Cerberus, come on, let’s go hotwire this ship.”

He paused, shrugged, then followed the determined medic, who had started to usher the Reds and Blues towards the purple ship. It was open, thankfully, so the group went straight inside. Cerberus went straight to the controls, beginning to fiddle around with them, when suddenly, the whole dashboard became illuminated with a deep blue light. Caboose was helping Cerberus, as he was surprisingly good with technology and vehicles. Doc had moved Grif into a semi-stable position, and Simmons was helping him while Tucker looked after the baby alien. Sarge was positioned by the entrance, shotgun at the ready.

Looking out the window of the ship, West could see the two female freelancers trying to take down the tank to no success. Even though the gravity field was down, the tank seemed to have the same magnetic grips as the freelancer boots. The medic rolled her eyes, beginning to skirt around the outside of the hangar, keeping out of sight. Once close enough, she ran up to the tank before leaving a little ‘gift’ in way of an activated plasma grenade. The grunts operating it were blown sky high while West ran over to Wash and York, beginning to drag them back to the ship. Carolina and Tex could make their own way there.

Once on board, West went straight for the cockpit, where she found Cerberus and Caboose with the active ship. Carolina stormed in just as West took over the controls from Cerberus who gave them willingly. He didn’t want to fly the ship.

“Why are we here? We were going to wait for our evac!” Carolina growled just as West powered up the alien ship. It rose steadily, and West managed to get it moving. She had flown before, but… well… she was honestly fucking terrible at flying ships or driving vehicles, human or not. Or, well, anything. She would ask Tucker, who seemed to have experience with the alien tech, but he was dealing with Junior. _When you treat paediatrics, you need to treat the parents as well! _Her mind cheerfully rattled an old piece of training off, something she’d learnt as a vollie back home. _Don’t want two patients!_

“Carolina, I just want to get out of here. And just think, won’t the Director be somewhat pleased at us having stolen an alien ship?”

The cyan agent glared at the medic, who was instead focused on flying out of the hangar. She managed to get the ship out of the hangar, and once in the atmosphere, pressed the button that increased the acceleration. The ship shot forwards instantly, and thanks to the law of inertia, slammed everyone who wasn’t sitting down into the back wall. West could hear some rather angry yells, the main one from an enraged Carolina, who West could feel glaring at her back.

The medic swore as some sort of alarm started blaring, indicating… something. She really wasn’t sure, but by the sound of the massive ship behind her, she guessed it was a plasma cannon being fired. She turned the controls sharply upwards, just managing to spot the blast sail right past their ship. Everyone crashed into the floor again, but West ignored that and rather focused on getting out of the atmosphere as fast as possible. Carolina was yelling something at Four-seven-niner, telling her to follow them rather than head towards the Covenant ship.

Another cannon discharged, so West swung the ship around, managing to miss the blast again. God, she was so on edge. She absolutely _hated _driving. Why was she doing this?

Oh, right. Because she was the only one who could fly a Covenant ship.

Fucking hell.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, hope everything is going well! I just wanted to explain what I was planning on doing with the story and why I started to re-write it- I did mean to do this earlier but I got a bit distracted. Whoops! 
> 
> Anyway, I started this story in 2016- I honestly cannot remember what prompted me to start writing, other than it was during exams (like now!) and it was a way for me to procrastinate. This has been the longest story I've written to date, and I wrote the majority of it throughout my last two years of school. 
> 
> In regards to the original characters in the story - West is essentially me; her attitude is a touch more hot-tempered than my own, but all the medical knowledge is mine. That was one of the reasons why I decided to re-write bits and pieces of the story- I've become a lot more experienced since leaving school and I wanted to fix some of the mistakes I'd made. Cerberus is the character that my best friend created- I'll put some of her old artwork in the later chapters, so keep an eye out! Nebraska is the character of a good friend, who was the co-author of the original posting. Erith was the character of a friend of mine, although over the last two years of school, we had a falling out.
> 
> I decided to start re-writing the story again, in part to fix some of the mistake's I'd made, but also to establish and develop the characters in a more in-depth way than I did in the original version. This does include the original characters, as well as characters of RvsB. My style of writing usually consists of 'winging it' and because of that, I didn't really have a plan for where this was going. However, I kept coming back to it, and re-reading the story made me want to finish and conclude everything- which is going to be interesting, since I've never finished a story as large as this before. 
> 
> Anyway, I thought I'd explain a little bit of my thought process. Thank you to everyone who reads my story- especially those who have kept with it since the beginning. The fact that people are enjoying my story - when I know that OC stories aren't as commonplace and not all that popular - makes me incredibly happy.   
Well, with that, I'll get back to it!  
Thanks,   
Catherine (Delirious_Chaos)

“Well, shit.”

Cerberus looked up at the medic, who was pulling a worried face. They had been flying for a few hours now and were nearly back at the Mother of Invention, the steel grey hull of their base slowly becoming more visible against the pitch-black void of space. It was safe to say, West was now banned from flying anything. She had almost decompressed the ship, had shut of life support at least twice and had thrown everyone off their feet at least six times. Still! She was doing better than she normally was, and no-one died! She was the only one with the proper experience with the alien ship, since she had flown on in the war. Still, that had been a _really_ big emergency. So, yeah. No more flying for West.

“What?”

The medic grinned sheepishly. “I don’t know how to land this thing without crashing.”

Cerberus paused. “You’re kidding.”

Shrugging, the medic grinned helplessly. The two of them had been sitting in the cockpit while everyone else was hanging out in the back of the ship, with Cerberus keeping West company while flying. The medic shook her head. “Yeah, well, I’m not. Do the controls say anything?”

Cerberus wandered over, beginning to look at the console. After a few minutes, he shook his head, scratching the back of his head in confusion. “It doesn’t say a thing!”

West pulled a face, thinking. Then, she shot up in her seat with a grin. “I know! What if, once we’re close enough, we cut the engines? Then, once we’ve stopped accelerating, we can get the pelicans to guide us into the hangar? It should fit the ship.”

The male freelancer paused for a moment before nodding and grinning. “That might work! Let’s call it in and get the proper back up.” He scampered off, placing his helmet on to call Command. He returned a few minutes later. “We’ve got the backup! Four-seven-niner and another pelican will guide us in.” He paused before grinning, pointing to an old, battered pelican flying alongside their own. “Hey! That’s Erith and N’s pelican!”

“N and Erith?”

Cerberus shook his head and smiled. “Agent Nebraska and Agent Erith. They were on a recon mission; that’s why you didn’t see them when you arrived. That happens sometimes. But, well… their mission took longer than expected to complete.” The man laughed, shaking his head. When West shot him a questioning look, he smiled and explained. “They’re… interesting, but I guess that’s not the best explanation. You’ll see what I mean when you meet them.”

West shrugged before turning her attention to the looming ship before her. Judging by how fast they were going and how far away the Mother of Invention was, they’d have to cut off their engines about now. West could see their pelican and the other freelancer pelican come alongside their alien ship, when magnetic grabs shot out from the side of each pelican to latch onto the side of the purple ship. There was a shudder and the beginning of a slow deceleration.

They managed to make it into the hangar with no problem, and thankfully, West manage to find the control that allowed them to leave the ship. Wash stumbled off, collapsed to the ground on his knees, saying something about never flying with West again. The medic just rolled her eyes. They were just being dramatic. She didn’t _kill_ anyone, so she considered that sa success.

Almost instantly, Doc rushed off to the med bay, with Caboose carrying Grif somehow. Damn, that kid was _strong_. Grif had started bleeding on the way back, and Doc had been trying to stabilise the wound. Simmons went with the purple and blue agent, while Tucker rushed off in the same direction, apparently going to help the alien. Cerberus had explained on the way back – to West’s utter disbelief – that Junior was actually Tucker’s son. It sounded crazy but was apparently entirely true.

She shook her head. Humans giving birth to aliens. What next?!

Well, Wash had gotten off the ground, and had started to make his way to the war room with York, Carolina and Tex. Apparently, the freelancers had to make a report after every mission, but West seemed to be exempt from that. Probably since she was the medic. The Reds and Blues were exempt from that as well, since apparently, they never did the paperwork anyway. She’d had a brief discussion with Carolina, who had been liaising with Command about the agents planet-side; they’d finished up their mission with no casualties and were on their way back. They’d gotten delayed investigating an alien temple, and due to the weird nature of the site, all radio communications had been cut off. As such, they hadn’t noticed the time passing, but were all safe. 

The other two pelicans had landed safely, when a squeal of joy echoed out from the new freelancer pelican. West looked over to see Donut happily embracing a freelancer in purple and silver armour, not unlike North or South’s armour. The two hugged happily, before pulling back so the other agent could pull off their helmet. From what West could see, the agent was young, with shortish brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Donut looked up to see West looking at the two, so he waved the medic over, a beaming smile breaking over his face.

“West! This is Agent Nebraska! I can’t believe you two haven’t met before; she’s _totally _the best baker on the ship, asides from me or Doc, of course.” His bright blond hair kept falling into his face as the young agent spoke excitedly. He always loved it when his friends met.

The purple and silver agent laughed, extending her hand to the medic. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Agent Nebraska, but most people just call me N. You’re pretty new, aren’t you?”

West smiled, shaking the agent’s hand. “Yeah, I’m the new medic-slash-nurse on board for the freelancers. I’m Agent West Australia, but most people just call me West.”

“So _you’re _the new medic! I was wondering when you would arrive! Me and Erith, we’ve been on recon for the past few months on one of the remote desert planets, but we were told that you were coming. Hey, Erith, get out here! We’ve got a newbie!”

West raised her eyebrow, a wry smile appearing. “Newbie?”

“Oh, sorry! But, well, you are.” The brunette turned her attention to the entrance of the pelican, where an agent in the most _shocking_ armour colours appeared. Oh my god. She’d never seen anything like that. Teal armour with orange accents. Didn’t… didn’t N say they were doing _recon? _The agent herself, however, was brunette with her short hair tied up into a small ponytail. She had a notable scar on her eyelid. How the hell did she get that?

The agent was grumbling and rubbing her eyes. “N, I was having a goddamn nap. Why the hell did you wake me up?”

N waved her hand in West’s general direction. “New person.”

The teal agent paused, focusing on West. “Wait, who the hell are you?”

The medic sighed. “I’m West, the new medic. You’re Erith?”

“Yep. Wait, how old are you?”

“I’m 26. Why?”

The agent scowled, almost comically, as she threw her hands in the air. As she disappeared back into the pelican, you could hear a yell of “Why is everyone always older than me?!”

Nebraska shook her head and laughed. “Don’t mind her, she’s pretty cool once you get to know her. She’s kinda like our back up sniper- or otherwise our primary sniper when North isn’t running missions.”

The dinner bell suddenly chimed, so Donut started to push the female agents in the general direction of the mess hall. “Come on, you two! I can’t wait to see all the crew again! You can talk over dinner!”

The two other agents laughed. West looked at N. “So, what do you do?”

“Me? Well, I’m a hacker, but Cerberus is usually the one sent in first if they want to retrieve information. They usually send me in if, well, they want stuff broken.” N grinned sheepishly, almost tripping over her own feet. “I’m pretty good at it, so that must say _something_ about my skill.”

The three agents made their way to the mess hall, where West spotted Wash and York eating and talking animatedly to each other. Good to see that Wash had recovered after flying with West. Donut ran off to go talk to some other soldiers, saying something about ‘strapping young men,’ but N said to just ignore anything strange- like innuendos- that came out of Donut’s mouth. Apart from those two, however, the mess hall seemed devoid of freelancers or agents.

West and N were just sitting down at Wash’s table when suddenly the door of the mess hall flew open and Erith appeared, yelling, “GUESS WHO’S BACK, BITCHES!”

Almost all the freelancers present collectively groaned, while West just smiled blankly, adopting a polite and slightly bemused smile. She turned to the others on her table. “Does she always do that?”

York shook his head. “Not usually, but it happens often enough that it’s kind of expected.”

Wash nodded, mouth full of food. The blond finished his mouthful, turning to smile at N. “How was the mission, N?”

The purple and silver agent grinned. “Yeah, it went well! We just got caught up in having to recover the files since I accidentally deleted them from the main computer.” She slammed her head on the table, covering her head with her arms and groaning. “It took so _long _to recover the files. I swear to god, if I see another goddamn terminal, it’ll be too soon.”

Everyone at the table laughed, with N chuckling from her position on the counter. The table eventually settled into some mindless chatter, when everything seemed to fall rather quiet, a chilly and unnerving silence descending over the multiple conversations. West looked up from her table to see the Counsellor making a be-line towards their table, and a quick glance to her friends revealed something interesting. Wash had gone still, smile dropping off his face as he struggled to get himself under control, shoulder riding up slightly. York was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. N had narrowed her eyes, suspicious for a moment before everything smoothed out, the woman adopting a faint, polite smile that screamed discomfort. It only took a second for the whole atmosphere at the table to change, becoming defensive. No-one trusted the Counsellor.

When he reached the foot of their table, the silence was stifling and awkward. What was he here for?

“Agents, it is good to see you back safely. Agent Nebraska, Agent Erith, I wish to see you in my office in twenty minutes. You were supposed to file your report the moment you landed, and we need it immediately. Agent West Australia, the Director wishes to see you in the surgery wing.”

Erith grumbled, scoffing her food down as quickly as possible before grabbing N and dragging her to the exit. N waved and called goodbye. “I’ll see you later, West! Good to meet you!”

West looked up at the Councillor. “Why does the Director want to see me?”

The man sighed. “You have been scheduled for AI implantation, and you have been moved up the list.”

West scrambled to her feet. _Oh shit, that’s pretty important._ Why hadn’t she been told about this earlier?! She’d only just gotten back! “Okay, yeah, I’ll head there now,” Shooting to her feet, she nodded at the Counsellor and smiled to her friends on the table. “I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

The two freelancers nodded, the news breaking through some of the chilly atmosphere; she supposed that wishing a friend luck was important. “We’ll visit you later if we can, West. It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” York smiled and motioned towards his shoulder. West smiled and nodded while Wash muttered something along the lines of ‘good luck.’

It only took her a few minutes to find the surgery wing of the ship. It was near her own med bay, and West recalled that it was where most of the AI implantations took place, as well as any other surgeries that were required. But why was she getting one now? It seemed very early.

The Director was standing in the entrance of the room, watching as the technicians buzzed and milled around. He wasn’t really doing anything, just standing, but he turned to her as she entered, boots clacking on the metal floor. She raised her voice. “Sir? You called for me?”

“Agent West Australia, you will receive your AI tonight. Get ready to be prepped for surgery. You have seen the procedure in your preparation for implantation?” He drawled in his severe accent, fixing his piercing green eyes on the medic. She nodded, standing up straight. Something about his eyes freaked her out, as if he was trying to find any fault or weakness. It… it was something she’d felt with the Counsellor as well. Huh.

“Yes, but why am I receiving the AI now? Wasn’t I further down on the list?”

The Director gazed coldly at the medic before nodding to the operating theatre. “As you are aware, we nearly lost multiple sets of our armour and a huge amount of our technology on the most recent mission. We need to have our agents operating at peak efficiency, and this includes being able to use our technology. As you are a vital part of the team, you have been moved up the roster as you need to be able to use the advanced healing unit in the field. Is this a problem?”

The medic shook her head. “No, I’ll go get ready now then.”

Almost immediately, a person appeared at the entrance of the room, dressed in a white lab coat. A surgeon, maybe? They motioned for West to follow them, where they led her to a smaller, more cramped room, where they instructed her to leave her helmet and any non-essential items.

The procedure would be a quick one. West, to be honest, was really surprised at how fast she had been moved up the roster; the Director really didn’t waste time. It had been only an hour since her team had gotten back, so why was she being pushed into surgery so fast? It was a bit dizzying. She must’ve already been scheduled for implantation quite soon, so the Director must’ve decided to bump her up the list when they were retrieving the Reds and Blues.

All agents had neural implants in the back of their necks, which would allow them to host an AI. West had received hers when she had first applied for the job; it was a small, white chip in the back of her neck, with the neural implants stretching further into her brain than she’d like to consider. This method of hosting an AI wasn’t reliable though, as it could send people insane, so the AI would be partly stored in her armour’s storage unit, partly stored in her neural implant.

The surgeon lead West to a metal gurney, where he made her lay down. Almost automatically, she began running through what would happen in the surgery; she would be placed in an anti-gravity field, and her AI would be placed in her neural implant while simultaneously being installed into her armour. Then, she would be placed into Recovery, and left to deal with having another mind in her head.

Great. This would be so much fun.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the artwork in this chapter is by my awesome friend at https://twitter.com/muddylaneart?lang=en  
Make sure to go and check some of her stuff out, it's pretty cool shit.  
Anyway, enjoy the chapter!  
\- Catherine/Delirious

She woke up in recovery. Not gradually, as if pulled from her sleep slowly, over time, but as if someone had gone and dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over her. Suddenly. And not very happy. Groaning from the splitting headache ripping through her temples, she sunk into the bed, lifting a hand to massage her face and head.

She wasn’t in any of the normal med bays, so she supposed this was the room where they dumped recovering freelancers after they received their AI’s. But, why had she woken up? She should’ve been conscious for the whole surgery-

_>>Hello.>>_

“Holy shit!” She couldn’t help it. Having a voice speak inside her head and seeing a figure flash before her eyes was just a bit too much. And it just made her headache worse, making her sink further into the bed with a groan. Holy fuck, what the hell was wrong with her head?

_>>Please stay calm. Your blood pressure has risen to 134 systolic, 89 diastolic. You were placed under general anaesthesia as your body reacted adversely to the initial implantation. The surgeons believed it was a subconscious reaction that you had no control over. Do not worry.>>_

What was wrong with his _voice?_ It sounded liked some sort of weird, old, pre-war meditation voice that seemed to be popular when the internet was first starting out. Something that people would use to help them sleep or meditate, droning voice apparently soothing on their frayed nerves.

_>>If it makes you more comfortable, I can change my vocal subroutines.>>_

Oh, that was certainly strange. He could hear inside her own mind. How should she address him?

“Umm… hello?”

_>>Hello.>>_

“You’re my new AI?”

_>>Yes, that is correct. My designation is Zeta. It is a pleasure to meet you.>>_

West sunk further into her bed. This was so strange.

_>>I understand that it can be a bit hard at first, but we will work through it.>>_

The medic laughed, abruptly. “We have no choice, mate.”

_>>Mate?>>_

“Ah, sorry. It’s a common nickname from where I come from. Hey, do you mind if I call you Z?”

_>>If it makes it easier for you to adjust to my presence, you can call me what you wish.>>_

As he spoke, West could see an outline of something flicker in and out of her vision. It looked like a freelancer in red and black armour; similar to her own, but in reverse. It was… interesting.

“How long have I been unconscious for?”

_>>Three hours, twenty-four minutes and six seconds. It is 2326, or 11.26 pm.>>_

“I can understand 24-hour time, Z, I am in the army.” West made a face. She was never going to get to sleep now, since her body clock had been thrown out of whack with the anaesthesia. Looking around Recovery, it seemed that the people manning the station had thought that West would sleep the whole night and wake up in the morning. The lights had been dimmed, and her armour had been piled in the corner. West grumbled.

“Oh, bugger this. I’m going to my own med bay.”

_>>Is that a good idea? The Director would much rather have you remain here.>>_

West rolled her eyes. “One thing you learn when running with me, Z, is that I don’t always follow orders. Just think of it as being given a tour. I’m just showing you our med bay, since we’ll be there a fair amount.” She walked over to her armour, beginning to pull it on. She would rather just leave it, but she supposed that she should take it with her. There was no-one else in Recovery, and nothing stirred. The medic doubted that anyone would notice her leaving.

_>>You are a soldier, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you follow orders?>>_

The medic smiled as the opened the door, which slid open with a quiet hiss. Her head was still throbbing dully, but once she got to her med bay, she could drug herself up, which would helpfully make her fall asleep. “But I’m also a medic and nurse. Anything medical, I tend to have the final say. Well. More or less. And I can’t be bothered sleeping on one of those lumpy old beds. I need my cot.”

_>>And that correlates, somehow?>>_

“Yes. Don’t question it, Z.”

_>>Understood.>>_

“My god, do you have any spine at all?”

_>>Any ‘spine’?>>_

“Like, backbone. Attitude. Anything similar.” The medic paused for a second, collecting her bearings. She turned down a corridor, which she remembered as heading towards her med bay. Everything looked incredibly different at night. Well, what passed for night on the ship, which was a severe lack of people around and all the lights turned off. She wasn’t _scared, _just… uneasy. Although, there was something weirdly liberating at being up with no-one else around. “Aren’t most of the AI fragments supposed to represent a certain emotion or something?”

_>>Yes, that is correct. I represent Determination.>>_

“Hm. Determination.” She turned another corridor. Wait, where was she now?

_>>Yes, that is correct. You… admire that?>_

West nodded, her lips twitching up into a smile. She knew where she was now, as the training hall was just off to her right. And, she could hear… music? A soft, lilting melody that implied warmth, closeness.

Moving silently as she could over to the door, she opened it. A melody was playing softly in the training hall, and when she made her way over to the viewing window, she saw two figures in the centre of the floor, slowly dancing to the music. One was much taller than the other, but they both seemed to be swaying with each other, peacefully. It was rather dim in the room but seeing the massive stature of one of the guys and the sandy blond hair of the other, West knew who was who.

_>>Should those two be in the training room this late at night?>>_

West just smiled and backed out of the room. “Let’s just leave them be. We don’t need to bother them.”

It was nearly 15 minutes later when West managed to find her way to her own med bay. It was… different, with another person inside her own head. Disorientating. And, being so late at night, she supposed she was slightly sleep deprived as well. Great. It also didn’t help with all the looming shadows, constantly setting her on edge.

_>>Do you normally sleep well?>>_

And it was strange, having a running commentary of her thoughts and actions. Funky, but she’d hopefully get used to it. She shrugged. “Yeah, but it depends on the day. I sleep… alright.” She pressed the button on the med bay door, which slid the white door to the side. The presence of Zeta in the back of her mind, hovering and weighing up whether to comment on her sleeping habits made her smile. He was unsure, testing their boundaries, wanting to dive deeper to see for himself but unwilling to invade her privacy and autonomy. Maybe it was his respect of her rights, or his hesitance, but a slow, pervasive warmth began to spread through her. This was gonna be okay.

The medic wandered in, and once she reached her office, stripped down to her Kevlar under suit before falling backwards onto her cot, leaving her armour scattered across the floor. She grabbed a couple of paracetamol tablets, swigging them down with a mouthful of water, gagging at the taste. 

_>>Shouldn’t you note that down?>>_

West shrugged from her spot on the bed, trying to focus on Zeta as he hovered in her peripheral vision. “Nah, I’ll do it in the morning. I just want to try get some sleep now. Might as well try, even if I don’t get any.”

_>>That would be a good idea. I will try keep my input to a minimum to allow you to sleep.>>_

The medic chuckled, shifting onto her side before settling down into the cot. She touched her implant softly, at the base of her neck. “It’s fine, Z. We’ll take a while to settle down. That’s okay.”

West woke to the sounds of people calling her name. She blinked, confused for a second, groggy from the lack of sleep but thankfully with no headache, before she realised that she was in her office. That was right. She had come here last night after waking up in Recovery-

_>>How are you feeling?>>_

Thankfully, the shock wasn’t as severe as the first time the AI had spoken inside her head, but it was still slightly unnerving. She sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “I’m fine, Z. Thank you for asking.”

_>>I would assume that those people are looking for us.>>_

The medic grumbled, standing up. The clock on the wall said that it was around 0730. Damn, she’d slept through the first breakfast bell. “That’s just bloody great.”

With a sigh – she would’ve liked to get some more sleep – she walked into the med bay to see Wash, York and N turn to look at her, seemingly surprised, but with relief spreading between the three.

_>>Who are these freelancers?>>_

“This is Wash, York and N. They’re my friends.” West motioned to the three freelancers while they looked at her questioningly. Oh, that’s right. Zeta wasn’t projecting currently, but West could feel something almost like a nod in her mind.

“West? Who are you talking to?” Wash looked at the medic worriedly. The woman smiled.

“My AI, Wash. His name is Zeta. Z, come say hello.”

The small AI appeared from one of the holographic projectors in the wall to float next to West’s shoulder. York grinned, walking over to the tiny, red and black AI.

“Hey, nice to meet you. My name’s York. You’re Zeta? I’ve got an AI of my own.” The scarred agent smiled and nodded at Zeta. Zeta nodded back in response.

_>>It is a pleasure to meet you. You three were looking for us?>>_

The small AI turned to almost glare at his medic. She just smiled impishly at the AI, giving him a grin and shrugging.

_>>I told you that we should’ve stayed in Recovery, West.>>_

“Eh, no harm done. If the Director gets pissed, I’ll take the blame.”

_>>So kind of you.>>_

“Actually, West, can you give me some first aid?” N came forwards, clutching a badly bleeding hand. The medic paused before giving an astonished look at the other agent. Wash and York also seemed surprised at how badly her hand was bleeding. Hadn’t they noticed? The brunette chuckled sheepishly. “I cut myself when I was cooking.”

West laughed, shaking her head. “My god, how did you do that? Okay, give me a sec. At least it’ll give me a good look at how Z handles situations.” She motioned to one of the beds. “Sit over there.”

Moving over to one of the cupboards, the medic pulled out a pair of rubber gloves before fetching some saline, gauze and primapore adhesive dressings. Primapore was great, as it was waterproof and usually stuck well to skin without being overly abrasive. West sighed internally, seeing the blood all over the floor. That was going to be fun to clean up. How on earth had she not noticed that? She was more disorientated that normal. _Cold water with detergent should do the trick. _Her mind rattled off, with curiosity spreading through her. Ah, that must have been Zeta, observing.

“Agent West Australia! You were to remain in Recovery until this morning.” West almost groaned aloud as the Director stalked in, the Counsellor a step behind him. Holding a hand up, she, thankfully, made them both pause. The medic rolled her eyes, instead focusing on the glowing AI.

“Z, can you walk me through this? I want to see how well you can deal with patients. Is that okay, Nebraska?” The bleeding agent smiled and nodded her assent. Thank god she seemed like a very cheerful person, since this would normally be _pretty_ weird.

_>>Of course, West. You need to clean the wound first, to remove any contaminants. Then, you can apply the gauze and primapore, and you can ask Agent Nebraska to apply pressure, which she is already doing.>>_

As the AI was talking, West pulled up a chair to where N was sitting and began to clean the wound. It had bled a fair amount, but it was shallow, thankfully. It looked like she had sheared the skin off the knuckle on her thumb, and was still bleeding, although it seemed to be slowing down, becoming more sluggish. Sticking a small basin between her legs, West began to irrigate the wound. It seemed clean already, which was good. _Well, all the skin got cut off, so we can’t replace it. Bugger. _In skin tears and wounds, a rule of thumb to improve healing was to use the skin flap to cover the injury as best as possible, providing that there wasn’t any major trauma to the circulation of the site.

“Okay, Z, what else do we need to do with patients? You can look through my mind if you need help.”

_>>That will not be necessary but thank you. Observations need to be taken, such as pulse, respiration rate and blood pressure, both systolic and diastolic.>>_

“Good, that’s pretty much correct. Can you take N’s for me?”

_>>Of course. Give me a moment to access the relevant armour function->>_

The medic smiled as the agent’s observations filtered across her vision. They were within normal range but considering the injury, that was no surprise. Still, nothing wrong with practise. “That’s good, Zeta. I may have to rely on you to take observations in a time critical situation, depending on the severity.”

_>> I will remember that for next time.>>_

“And what else do we need to do?”

_>>…rest and reassure the patient?>>_

West chuckled. “Well done!”

_>>How are you feeling, Agent Nebraska?>>_

The purple and silver agent smiled at the tiny AI. “I’m fine, thank you.” The woman chuckled sheepishly, using her good hand to rub the back of her head. “This happens a lot, but I can usually deal with it myself. This is probably the worst injury I’ve given myself cooking.”

_>>No dizziness or nausea?>>_

The brunette shook her head. “Nope! I feel fine, really.”

West smoothed the primapore over the agent’s hand. It stuck well, thankfully, but she applied two dressings, just to be safe, handing over a spare as well. “That should be that. Sorry about being a lab rat.”

N laughed, standing up. “I’m sorry for getting blood on your nice clean floor!”

The medic waved her hand. “It’s okay, I’ll clean it up later.” Repressing a sigh, whilst also wishing for the floor to swallow her whole, she stood and turned to stare at the Director and Counsellor, who had been watching silently. Their faces were both impassive and really fucking hard to read. Great. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

Probably not the right response as the Director glared at the medic and she could feel Z chastising her in her mind. _Sorry Z, _she thought. The taller man made his way forwards, avoiding the blood on the floor, to come stand less than a metre away from the redhead. “Agent West Australia, you have delayed my schedule and many of the agents’ schedules so they could come find you. You were to remain in Recovery until morning where you and Zeta would be assessed.”

The medic shrugged. “I’m sorry, sir, but I woke up and decided that it would be easier for me to recover in my own med bay, since it’s more familiar. I also needed painkillers, which I wouldn’t have been able to get from Recovery. It was my idea, though, so don’t blame Zeta. He would’ve rather we stay in Recovery.” West placed her hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. Was she pushing it? She probably was.

The Director’s face morphed into a full-blown scowl, the most emotion she’d seen on the man in fucking ages. Ah, crap. “Agent West Australia, since you have proven that you _cannot _follow orders, you will be confined to your med bay unless you are needed. You may still train with the other agents, but any other times, you will remain here. That will include meals as well. Is that _understood_?”

Damn, she really had gone too far. She glanced off to the side, quickly, before returning her gaze to the Director. “Yes, that’s understood.” She probably deserved it, anyway. But _hell_ if she would let herself feel guilty over it. She wouldn’t allow herself to.

He drew himself up even straighter, nodding. “I will arrange a soldier to remain here, to make sure you will remain in the medical bay. They will also fetch your food. Agents,” He nodded to Wash, York and N, who had been standing there silently, looking vaguely horrified and worried, “You may leave to go to training.” The group left silently, without any complaints, with Wash and N pausing to send her a sympathetic glance. It was okay. She didn’t mind.

And that was that. No arguments.

Without another word, the Director stalked out, the Counsellor a close step behind. West allowed herself to exhale angrily, running her hand through her hair to tug at the roots. Fuck! She’d really done it that time. She probably deserved it, but she was still pissed at having been grounded. Then again, at least she wasn’t confined to her room. She liked her med bay. Wasn’t the worst place in the world to be confined to.

_>>You are a very interesting person, West.>>_

The medic chuckled, walking over to the bin to throw out the rubbish, in an effort to dispel her rapidly darkening mood. “What’s that supposed to mean, Z?”

_>>You have very good control over your emotions. And, even though you feel angry, you try to see the positive side of the situation. You are very determined.>>_

That made her laugh. “I guess we’re a good match then, eh, Zeta?” She shook her head, chuckling as she grabbed a mop from the small storage room at the back of the med bay, running the cold water and cleaning solution at the same time. Smiling, she began to clean the blood off the floor before dumping the dirty broom in the biohazard container near the entrance of the med bay. It didn’t take too long, and she was done about ten minutes later.

Making her way over to her office, she flopped down onto her cot with a sigh. West couldn’t remember if she had any work, but if she was honest, she really couldn’t be stuffed.

_>>Is that really the best attitude to have?>>_

The medic shrugged from her position on the cot. “Probably not, but I can’t be bothered. I’m tired and I’ve just been confined to my med bay. I can always do work later.”

She could feel something like a shrug in her mind, and then a nod.

_>>This is true.>_

The woman sighed. This would be boring, she could tell.

West woke up a while later when the door of her office was slammed open and a body flopped down on her bed. The medic jerked awake, surprised and confused. She must’ve fallen asleep, as she had her arms tightly crossed over her chest with her chin tucked down. What was with her and waking up disoriented? It might’ve been a side affect of having Z in her head, but she wasn’t particularly sure.

Well, Erith was sitting on her bed, a tray of food in her lap and her hands. She nodded to the medic –“What’s up?” - before she shoved the plate of food into her hands. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I just grabbed a bit of everything.”

West looked at the plate of food sceptically. “I can tell.” She replied drily, noting how everything seemed to be piled on top of the plate. She wasn’t exaggerating, with bits and pieces from every food group forming a big, squishy mass on her tray. Erith laughed, cramming her own food into her mouth.

“So, why’d the Director lock you up? You must’ve done something to piss him off.”

The medic grumbled, trying to evade the questioning, but Zeta decided to appear and explain.

_>>West decided to return here after AI implantation, even though she had been expected to stay in Recovery.>>_

“Holy shit!” Erith seemed surprised at the sudden appearance of the AI, and she threw a piece of food through the hologram. Zeta gave her what seemed to be an exasperated look.

_>>Please refrain from doing that as we will just have to clean it up later. You are Agent Erith, correct?>_

Erith blinked, still surprised. “Dude, what the hell is up with your _voice?_”

West chuckled as Zeta sighed. “Don’t worry, Z. You haven’t met everyone yet.”

_>>I look forwards to it.>>_

Was that a tinge of _sarcasm _in his voice? Oh, sweet baby AI, he was learning so quickly. West was almost proud, grinning for a moment before she turned to the other agent who was trying to take more than half of her cot. “So, why’d they send you to watch me?”

Erith shrugged, picking at her food from her spot on the cot. “Dunno. I’m not usually needed, so I supposed the Director figured that I wouldn’t be missed. That’s cool though.” She grinned, wickedly, at the medic. “Means I get out of Carolina’s fucking training regime.”

West laughed at that, picking at her own food. “Yeah, I’m not a fan.”

“No shit! My god, it always kills me.” Erith groaned and shook her head. “How long are you supposed to stay here, anyway?”

West shrugged. “I have no clue. The Director just told me that I would have to stay here. Didn’t tell me much else.”

_>>Maybe if you had remained in Recovery, this could have been avoided.>>_

Erith poked her fork through the small AI. He flickered and glared at the agent, who smiled curiously. “He’s a bit of a nagger, isn’t he?”

West smiled and rolled her eyes. “He’s fine, Erith. I’ve been acting a bit like an ass to the Director, so it was about time he got pissed with me.”

“Oh, yeah! South told me about when you started arguing with him!” The agent laughed, shaking her head before falling silent, considering something. “Seems like he has issues with most of the agents. He’s… a bit of a control freak, isn’t he?” The woman’s voice had morphed into something softer, probing carefully, with the agent watching the medic’s reaction cautiously. You could never be too careful when talking about shit like this, since their boss seemed to encourage fighting and backstabbing regularly within the ranks, if a bit more subtly.

West snorted, picking at her food. “That’s an understatement. He treats everyone like a tool. The only time I’ve seen everyone really relax is when the Director and Counsellor are off ship. Or the other end, at _least._”

“It seems that everyone has a problem with them, doesn’t it? Most people have stopped arguing with the both of them. I guess they’re scared of what they’ll do. I- ah, well-“

The medic stopped eating, placing her fork on her tray, giving the agent her full attention. “Is everything okay, Erith? I know that we haven’t known each other all that long, but anything that you say in here will remain confidential and between us.”

Erith snorted. “And your little friend? How soon will it be before this conversation reaches the brass?”

“It won’t reach them.” West was sure of it. She’d only had Zeta in her head for less than a day, but she _trusted _him. The medic liked to think of herself as a decent judge of character, and Zeta’s respect of her autonomy and the ethical principles that governed her own practise, had cemented her answer. He wouldn’t betray this trust.

“…Alright.” Taking a deep breath, the agent exhaled slowly, gathering her thoughts. “I think something dodgy’s going on. Within the organisation. Personally, I don’t think the freelancers are involved – maybe we are, but unwillingly- but _something’s _going on. I just don’t know _what._”

Wow. That was a lot. “Okay, how so? What’s making you suspicious?”

She received a suspicious look for that. “You don’t think I’m exaggerating or imagining things?”

The medic shook her head, considering. “No. Every interaction I’ve had with the Director makes me angry, or at the very least, pretty suspicious. Like, every time I see them, people get weirdly defensive. I…” She trailed off, remembering a comment that Cerberus had said during their first interaction. “I think the Director is breaching a number of ethical codes. At the very _least. _Ah, shit.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

The redhead paused, thinking. She wasn’t going to break confidentiality my naming Cerberus, but… “I’ve spoken to a number of soldiers about their chronic conditions, and they didn’t seem to realise that they had a right to not be in pain. That they had a right to good healthcare. I can’t remember the specific codes, but when I was doing my nursing degree, they drilled it into us; _always do good, do no harm, the patient’s autonomy comes first, always give as much information to the patient as needed for them to make a decision free of manipulation- _and so on. Those ethical principles govern _everything _in health care. I’m pretty sure that there are intergalactic treaties governing shit like that.”

Silence fell before Erith spoke up. “Holy shit. Holy _shit._” Glancing up at West, her gaze was panicked and shaky. “_This is why CT disappeared.”_

That name sounded familiar. “Who-“

“She was an agent! And, right before she got sent on a literal _suicide mission – _she hasn’t been seen since, don’t listen to what anyone else says, they’ve probably been fed some bullshit- she said that she’d started to investigate the Director!” Erith laughed, jagged and with an edge of fear lacing it. “The stuff you told me? Probably just the tip of the ice burg!”

Shit. This… this was a lot bigger than the two of them, wasn’t it? “What can we do?”

“I don’t know.”

That was the answer of the fucking year, wasn’t it? West leant back against the wall, closing her eyes. Zeta had been noticeably quiet during this whole exchange, and with a thread of worry, she wondered if she had misplaced her trust in the small AI. No. She hadn’t. It was small, and hard to find, but if she reached out towards the AI, she could feel a fission within him, as if he was warring with himself. As if he was debating telling her something. She could feel his resolution, however. This conversation would not be leaving this room.

“This need to stay between us, for now. I… think we need to look into this further.” West exhaled, slowly, looking at her friend, who was giving a hard glare to the floor. She met her eye the next moment, gaze flinty, before giving a sharp nod.

“Not you though. I’ll remember what you told me about your patients, but as of yet, there’s no _proof._ And if you start investigating and kicking up a fuss- more than you already have, West!- there’s no telling what they’ll do to us. I can do it. I’ll be subtle, and then I can let you know what I find.”

“Then what?”

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll blow this whole fucking project out the water. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”

West gave a harsh exhale but nodded. “Be careful, alright?”

“Yeah, I will.”

Both paused for a bit, returning to their food with slightly less motivation than before. Erith snorted a laugh, elbowing one of West’s legs. “That was a fucking heavy conversation. Let’s try lightening things up a bit, shall we?” She grinned, the shadows and fear in her eyes retreating for the moment as she drawled out her words. “Sooooo… what do you do for fun around here?”


	12. Chapter 12

“Really. You’re serious. This is _all _you do for fun around here?” Erith stared at West, who just shrugged.

“Yep. I don’t have much fun stuff – well, fun for you. And I would prefer to not make a mess, since we’d just have to clean it up later.”

The other agent flopped down on one of the med bay beds. “What’s your definition of ‘fun’ then?”

West chuckled, sitting on the beg adjacent to Erith. The two had been in the med bay for nearly 4 hours now, and it was getting closer to dinner. It was safe to say; the two agents were bored. Apparently, as well as being banned from leaving the med bay, there weren’t any ‘social visits’ allowed, which meant that West wasn’t allowed to see her friends outside of training or treating them. That was-argh! Why couldn’t she see her friends?

The medic sighed, trying to think of something the two of them could do, when there was a knock on the door. West sat up, yelling ‘come in!” to whoever was on the other side.

When the door slid open, she was surprised to see Cerberus, North, Wash, York, N and Donut on the other side of the door, with red pen drawn all over them. Were… were they supposed to be _injuries? _Oh lord, these people. West raised an eyebrow as a couple of the agents grinned and shouldered their way inside. Z popped up, and West could feel his scepticism in the back of her mind, giving an exasperated sigh, which she couldn’t help but chuckle at.

_>>Do you need any assistance?>>_

Donut grinned. “Why yes, we do! We accidentally injured ourselves, and while I wouldn’t mind some strapping young man helping me, we figured that you’d help us out, West!”

N rolled her eyes and smiled. “So, can you give us some first aid?”

Zeta seemed confused at the fact that the freelancers and agents had drawn all over themselves in red pen to appear ‘injured.’

_>>But you aren’t injured. This is confusing. Why would you say you were?>>_

Erith came up next to West, slinging her arm around the waist of her taller friend, before she poked at the hologram, finger sliding through Zeta to his obvious annoyance. “They wanted to come visit, Zeta, and they wouldn’t be able to come unless they were injured. So, they ‘injured’ themselves.”

The AI just shook his head before disappearing back inside West’s head, hovering at the edge of her mind, content to watch the weird-ass proceedings.

_>>Human are very strange.>>_

His medic chuckled, getting strange looks from everyone. “I know, Z, I know.” She raised her eyebrow at the agents in front of her. “I better bandage you guys up anyway, so it seems like you actually got injured. Come on, come sit down.”

Cerberus grinned before he came to sit down on the bed. “We got such strange looks, so this better be worth it, West.” The sandy blond agent had drawn several lines on his face, probably to look like a graze, but it rather looked like a small kid had scribbled marker all over their faces and arms. West just shook her head and smiled, before she went over to the cupboard in order to grab some supplies. She grabbed a whole armful, before dumping them straight onto the bed.

Nearly an hour later, she had ‘patched’ everyone up, and the group was just sitting on the floor, laughing and talking. West had to admit, she was grateful towards her friends. They decided to do something rather silly in order to see her and keep her company. Not many people she had met would have done that for her. It was entertaining though, to see Wash with a bandage wrapped around his head, with his bright blond hair sticking up around the white bandage. Cerberus was dressed up with a normal gauze patch over the ‘graze’ on his face, and he had his arm in a sling. N had her whole arm bandaged along with her leg, and she was laughing and calling herself a mummy. York had been given a couple of band aids for his face and hands, while North had had his eye covered with a bandage similar to Wash’s. Donut had a massive broad bandage around his stomach and abdomen and was trying to get everyone to get in a picture with him. She’d pulled out all the expired stock from the most recent stock check, so they weren’t wasting any equipment.

It was silly, as the eight of them had spent nearly half an hour trying to come up with a scenario if anyone found them out. Donut had suggested a mud fight before he was cut off, N suggested a cooking accident and Cerberus had said something about getting stuck in the vents.

West had laughed. “Guys, you can’t have all _different _scenarios. That would just seem like a really big coincidence.”

Wash was looking thoughtful. “What if we had an accident in the training room? I don’t know, something with the locking paint, maybe?”

North smiled, nodding. “What if a live grenade got mixed up in the training grenades?”

Erith grinned. “It might make you sound like a real idiot though, North. Do you want to tell someone that you mixed up a training grenade and a live one?”

The blond grumbled, before he shrugged. “Donut, you usually use grenades. Why don’t you say you mixed it up?”

York laughed, “But North, that would make it even more unbelievable. Donut’s probably the best one with grenades, so he should’ve known the difference even more!”

West just shook her head and laughed. “Hey, guys, are you going to wear that to dinner?”

Most of them just shrugged. “We can always just put our armour on.” York grinned before jabbing his elbow at Wash. “Hey, Wash, you can show everyone how to eat with your armour on!”

Wash just rolled his eyes, jabbing York back in the ribs and muttering something about never living that down. Everyone just laughed at the two interacting before the door slid open to reveal Doc carrying several data pads in his arms. West stood, welcoming the other medic, who just paused, stared, and shook his head with a fond smile. Simmons was a step behind him, data pads in his arms as well, and his reaction was very much the same.

“Doc, Simmons, what can I do for you?”

Doc smiled, stiffly, before stepping past the door into the med bay, Simmons on his heels. “West, can I speak to you in your office? I need you to look at something for me.”

West raised an eyebrow but nodded. The other medic’s brows were drawn together, worry lines evident around his eyes and mouth. Something was wrong, but he didn’t want to say what, not in front of the others. “Yeah, sure. Come on.” She smiled at the freelancers on the ground. “We won’t be long.”

Inside the small office, West turned to the other medic, who seemed to be deep in thought. Not that unusual for Doc or Simmons, but they both appeared to be frowning. Doc dumped his data pads on the desk while Simmons placed his on the cot. “West, can you look at this for me? Simmons and I were looking over the inventory for my med bay, and it seems that some items are… missing.”

The redhead raised an eyebrow. “Missing. You’re sure?”

The two men nodded. West frowned, picking up one of the data pads to have a look for herself. Supplies were indeed missing; drugs from the supply cabinet. Both med bays had a locked medicine cabinet that most of the medical staff had keys to. Whenever drugs – or any supplies for that matter – were used, it needed to be recorded so that they could be restocked or replaced. It was unusual though. Who would take drugs from the drug cabinet? And without documenting?

“I was wondering if you knew anything about it? Simmons noticed it when we were doing our normal inventory, so they couldn’t have been taken that long ago.”

West shook her head. The last stock check had been just over two weeks ago. “No, I haven’t heard anything about it. But, why would someone take…” the medic paused, thinking. Stalking over to her desk, she grabbed her keys before walking over to the drug cabinet in the main med bay, Doc and Simmons following behind. The moment she entered the white room, silence fell, but West didn’t really worry about that. Unlocking the grey, unlabelled cabinet, the medic began checking the drugs.

“The opioids are missing, aren’t they?” Doc asked with a weary sigh, standing behind her. West knew how he felt. This wouldn’t be fun to deal with.

West stood and re-locked the cabinet. “Yes. And I am going to fucking _kill _whoever decided stealing from my med bay was a good idea.” She growled the last statement, turning back to Doc. The freelancers on the ground looked at the infuriated medic curiously.

“West, what happened?” Cerberus raised an eyebrow, tilting his head curiously. West exhaled angrily, running a hand through her hair.

“What I tell you _cannot_ leave this room, okay? It’s very important. Can you guys give me your word?” When all the freelancers nodded, as West knew they would, the medic sighed. “Someone’s stolen a number of drugs from my med bay and Doc’s med bay. Judging by what they took, they’re probably planning on using them recreationally.”

There was silence for a few seconds before Wash spoke up, sounding confused. “But, what drugs did they take? And don’t you guys usually keep that stuff under lock and key?”

Doc nodded. “We _do. _Only medical personnel have keys to the drug cabinets.”

Erith raised an eyebrow. “So, someone’s nicked your stuff, and they’re medical. Shouldn’t be too hard to track them down.”

Zeta appeared from the wall, interjecting.

_>>That is correct, Erith, but we need to find the missing medication quickly. They may potentially cause more casualties, which would be problematic as we do not have the right equipment to deal with drug overdoses. Any surge in casualties may overload our resources.>>_

“Well, what did they take?” Donut frowned, pouting almost. He didn’t like it when Doc or his friends were unhappy, so he supposed he’d help them track the medication down.

West sighed, scrubbing her hand over her face. “Oxycodone, ketamine and most of the morphine. So, painkillers, mostly. If they accidentally overdose, it can get bad quite quickly. We don’t have any drugs that can be used to negate those specific drugs, so we need to find them quickly. Well, we _do_, but not very much.”

N jumped up, hair flying everywhere. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go find those drugs!”

The redheaded medic smiled, tightly, motioning for her friend to calm down. “We need to do this quietly. I would prefer not to have the Director on my back because some _asshole_ was stealing stuff from the med bays.”

Most of the freelancers nodded, just as the dinner bell chimed off. Doc perked up, an idea coming to him. “We should go try find the drugs now, while everyone’s getting dinner. Simmons and I can go search the other med bay and if we need help, we’ll call.”

“Doc, they wouldn’t have taken them to a public-ish place. We need to check rooms.” West raised an eyebrow at the purple medic as the other freelancers wandered out the door. The medic paused before frowning.

“Oh, you’re right.”

_>>What about Agent Cerberus?>>_

Zeta popped out of the wall, almost causing Doc to jump. “Excuse me?”

West blinked before grinning, “No, he’s right! Air vents go everywhere in the ship, don’t they? Including personal rooms?”

“Yes, I believe so, but… oh! I see what you mean!”

The redhead pushed the other medic towards the door. “Go catch him! Zeta can send you a list of personnel that have access to the med bays, so you can give it to Cerb. He can get into their rooms to try find the missing drugs.”

The purple medic disappeared out the door with a faint goodbye being yelled over his shoulder. West turned to Erith and Z, smiling at the two, trying to keep a lid on the stress that was beginning to stew. “Good idea, Z. Hopefully Cerberus can find those medications.”


	13. Chapter 13

West paced, both nervous and angry. It had been nearly half an hour, and Doc had popped his head back in to tell her that Cerberus was now in the vents and was heading towards the medical personnel rooms. She was more angry than nervous, however, and if Cerberus found whoever took the medication, she was going to make their lives absolute _hell. _The one thing she did not tolerate was stealing of medical supplies, a result of spending time in the war.

If supplies were scarce enough as they were, and if some asshole decided to have a bit of fun, it meant that people could either suffer or die. That wasn’t exactly the case on the ship, but she would still not tolerate someone stealing potentially dangerous drugs from _her _med bay.

But… still. Addiction was an illness, and there could be several reasons that people wouldn’t come forwards for help. She was in two minds about the issue- on one hand, she had a responsibility to help people on this ship, but on the other hand, these people had stolen valuable resources that could be needed for serious patients. It was hard. She needed to have empathy, but it was tempered by anger.

She was alone in the med bay, as Erith had ventured out to go fetch dinner. West exhaled angrily, still pacing. Why didn’t they have security cameras in the med bays? Oh, right. Patient confidentiality.

The medic sighed. She needed to distract herself.

_>>West?>>_

“Z? What’s wrong?”

_>>I was doing a survey of all our equipment in the room and I found a fault in the advanced healing unit. I believe that it will make the unit potentially dangerous to use. This was a fault present in earlier models- it shouldn’t be present.>>_

The medic frowned. That wasn’t good. “What’s the fault, Z?” There was a moment of silence, and West could feel something like confusion flash through her AI. He wasn’t sure of something. “Zeta?”

_>>I believe that someone may have intentionally manipulated or altered the automatic generator of the healing unit. This was a fault that lent to the prevalence of explosions in previous models. I suspect that the person who stole the medication from both med bays is the culprit.>>_

Well, that wasn’t good. If someone was intentionally sabotaging her equipment… “Zeta, send a message to Doc. Tell him that someone may have messed with the automatic healing units, and to not use it until we have this mess figured out.”

_>>Understood.>>_

West ran a hand through her hair. She understood the schematics of the healing unit, but if someone had tampered with it, she didn’t know what would happen if she tried fixing the fault. But she needed to disable the power source. In the war, the models she had used had a nasty habit of blowing up. She had never seen it before, but she had dealt with the results of the accidents.

Well, she didn’t have to worry about that, as a rattling sound echoed from within the healing unit.

Everything hurt.

Well, no. Not everything hurt.

Her face hurt. And so did her ears.

Her ears were ringing. No, that wasn’t right either. Well, they were, but other than that, she couldn’t hear anything. The medic touched her right ear, wincing as she felt a wave of dizziness come over her. There was blood on her fingers. She’d probably ruptured an eardrum. Or both eardrums.

She couldn’t see. Or, at least, her left eye was swollen shut. Or it wasn’t. She wasn’t entirely sure. But it hurt. Actually, most of her face hurt.

In the back of her mind, she compared it to a plasma burn. Felt similar.

The medic winced. She really didn’t want to move, but something was wrong. _Obviously_, something was wrong. She had a head injury. And something had blown up. She wasn’t really thinking straight.

Vaguely, she registered an intense heat coming from her right. She squinted, trying to open her eyes, but she only managed to open her right eye a fraction. Bright orange flames roared from the destroyed healing unit, engulfing a fair amount of her med bay. Or at least, they would. It looked bad.

She still couldn’t hear anything, but she felt herself being dragged backwards, urgently. The blast seemed to have taken out the sprinklers, so the fire was becoming uncontrolled.

With a fair degree of urgency, she was rolled onto her back, and she felt Velcro straps being tightened across her torso, head and legs. So much for spinal precautions. She could see a faint smear of purple and a dark grey and yellow smudge, so she supposed Doc and Wash had heard the explosion.

She forced herself to breathe as she felt her mind wandering. Still wasn’t thinking straight. _Breathe!_

Breathing hurt as well. She supposed that was from the smoke in the room. Or she’d somehow singed her trachea and mouth. Sure as hell felt like it. _Smoke inhalation and superficial burns to the face! Priority one due to facial burns and potential airway compromise. _Her mind rattled off her training.

She felt herself being lifted into the air. As her head was strapped, she couldn’t move her neck. _Spinal precautions._ She didn’t know who was carrying her, but she felt the cool air wash over her as they left the med bay. She still couldn’t hear anything, apart from a high-pitched ringing. She hoped that the damage wasn’t permanent. She liked being able to hear. _Breathe, West. _She took another breath in.

Where was Zeta? She couldn’t feel him. She was probably too disoriented to notice his presence.

Sometime later, she felt herself being placed gently on the ground. She still couldn’t feel much. Well, her face still hurt, as well as her head. It made things a bit hard to focus on.

She couldn’t hear anything, but words seemed to almost flow into her mind. Maybe Zeta was unconsciously letting her hear. Interesting.

“Doc, we can’t use the healing units!”

“Wash, I _know_. We can’t go into the med bays until we know the healing unit there is safe. I’m going to apply a temporary dressing on her face. Thank god she was wearing her armour. I don’t know what would’ve happened if she had been in her under-suit.”

“Will she be okay?”

“Her injuries aren’t life-threatening, but we need to be careful. Any head injuries need to be treated with care. And her eardrums need to be repaired.”

Something hard squeezed her shoulder. _Trap squeeze. _It was almost painful, so she groaned slightly, trying to move away. She wanted to swat the thing away, but the moment she shifted her arm, she felt dizzy. Ow.

“Good, she’s responding to pain.”

“That’s good?!”

“It means that she’s responsive.”

God, she wanted to sleep so badly. _Breathe in, West. _Taking another burning breath in, she coughed. It hurt. Time seemed to pass in a haze, so she barely registered something being placed over her face.

“What can we do? We can’t leave her here. She needs proper care, Doc!”

“I know, N! What if we took her to the AI recovery? They don’t have a healing unit, so it should be safe.”

“The Director is not going to be pleased about this…”

When West woke up, she couldn’t see. Something was obscuring her vision, and for the first moment when she tried opening her eyes, it made her panic.

She couldn’t _see. _Had something happened to her eyes? She remembered not being able to see much and… not much else, actually. Something had exploded and… how long had she been asleep? Unconscious would be more accurate, she supposed.

She was in a bed. She could feel that much, with the scratchy, woollen blanket pulled over her legs, and the lumpy, uneven mattress beneath her. Her head was still throbbing dully, but she could feel a pinch as she tried moving her right arm. Ah, intravenous injections. They must’ve been keeping her under with pain killers. Or whatever they could use, since most of their pain killers had been stolen. Someone must’ve removed her armour to help her.

Where was she? There were only two places she could be other than her own med bay…

Shit. The medic groaned slightly as she began to remember what had happened.

The advanced healing unit had blown up, injuring her. She had been rescued by… Doc? She remembered something purple. And her med bay had been set on fire.

Oh, she was going to _murder_ whoever sabotaged her med bay.

The medic sighed and lent back against the back of the bed. It was disorienting, not being able to see or hear. That’s right. Her ear drums had ruptured. West lifted a hand slowly, beginning to feel at the bandages on her face. It wasn’t good. Both eyes had been bandaged, along with both ears, leaving her with only the bottom of her face exposed, except for several gauze pads on her neck. It made the medic uncomfortable, she had to say. She felt too vulnerable. Too blind. Still, it was better than being dead. She was alive.

She still seemed to have some sort of sensory input, which was unusual. It must’ve been Zeta’s connection to the world, as he didn’t solely rely on West’s eyes and ears to see. He could easily use her armour’s camera to see and hear things. He wasn’t active, however, as she couldn’t feel his presence on the edge of her mind. Maybe he pulled himself to protect himself but was maintaining some level of communication between the sensory centres in her brain and her neural implants. That would explain how she was able to hear heavy footsteps walking towards her, along with some worried chatter that sounded slightly tinny and strained, as if she was listening to someone talk in the background of a bad phone call.

West turned her head slightly towards the noise. She still felt extremely dizzy, but she wanted to remain composed. This would _not_ get to her.

“Agent West Australia? Can you hear me?” A man was speaking to her, but she couldn’t place the voice. Maybe Zeta wasn’t maintaining all the pathways when establishing a link between her brain and her armour, and the section of her brain that allowed her to recognise voices wasn’t working. That was the best explanation she had, when she was doped up on drugs and had just woken up.

“Director, her eardrums were ruptured. We only just repaired them. She won’t be able to hear for nearly a week until they fully heal.”

West forced her swollen and sluggish tongue to move. Her lips felt very raw. She really must’ve burnt her throat in the explosion. Actually, she remembered thinking something similar during the explosion. “…Sir?”

She barely managed a rasp, but it was enough to catch the Director’s attention. She could hear through Z’s latent connection; his footsteps turned back to her.

“Agent West Australia, you were in an accident and have been asleep for nearly three days. From what Agent Dufresne has told me, someone had sabotaged your advanced healing unit, rigging it to explode. They also stole several important medications from your medical bay. Is this correct?”

The medic nodded. Straight to business, that man. She’d try not to speak, considering how much it hurt her throat. She heard the man sigh, before she heard him shift on his feet, turning to the person next to him.

“Surgeon, when will she be able to communicate properly?”

The other person paused, thinking. “It’s hard to tell. She burnt her throat quite badly, so I’m surprised she can speak coherently. She received partial thickness burns to the left side of her face, so we need to keep her eyes covered to prevent any potential injury and to encourage healing. And, I don’t even _know_ how she can hear you. It will most likely take a few weeks at least, a few months at most. It will depend on how well she heals and how soon it will take to get the healing units back in working order.”

The Director sighed, again. “Inform me if there is any serious change. We will focus on finding the traitor,” he shifted, again, turning away from her bed, “And, Agent, you have some visitors. That will be all.”

“Of course, Sir. I’ll let the other agents know that they can visit Agent West.”

A few minutes must’ve passed, as she could hear footsteps walk away from her bed before a low murmuring from another room. That’s right. There was an observing room that people could watch from. She supposed her friends were there, being spoken to by the surgeon.

“West! Oh my god, are you alright?!” A woman’s voice became progressively louder as someone ran over to the bed. It was frustrating, as West still couldn’t place who the voices belonged to.

“Agent Nebraska! What did I just tell you! Please remain quiet!” The surgeon snapped from the doorway, West thought, since she heard the closing of a door a moment later. She turned her head slightly towards where her friend was, trying to smile. Her face was very sore, but she felt N grab her hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, West. Everyone’s been really worried about you.” West squeezed her friend’s hand, letting her know that she could hear. She motioned slowly to her throat, and thankfully, the purple and silver agent got the message. “We know you can’t speak, West. The surgeon told us that you burnt your throat and wouldn’t be able to speak for a while.”

West squeezed her hand, glad that her friends understood her inability to communicate. She felt N pull her hand back before she patted the back of West’s hand reassuringly. “We’re taking turns, but we’ve got to keep our visits short to allow you to rest.” West could almost hear the smile in her voice. “There’s a lot of people that want to see you.”

The medic almost laughed, but she stopped herself. She did allow herself to smile, as much as it pulled at her injuries, as she heard the door slid open again as Nebraska swapped with someone else.

“West, how are you feeling?” She still couldn’t place who was speaking, so she tilted her head slightly to the side, hoping they would understand. It was a guy who was speaking, but that’s all she could tell. A hand patted the arm with the needle in it. “It’s me, Wash. You gave everyone a good scare, West.”

The medic lent her head back against the wall that her bed was backed up against, sighing. Knowing her friends, they were probably sick with worry. She had pulled herself into a sitting position, somehow, but she felt for Wash’s hand. When she found it, she gave it a good squeeze, hoping that the other agent understood. She heard him chuckle, once. “It’s alright, West. We’re just glad you’re awake. You had surgery to repair your eardrums.” She squeezed his hand, nodding slightly. “How can you even hear, West?”

She motioned slowly to the back of her neck where her AI chip was. Wash made a noise of understanding before she heard him stand, patting her hand similarly to how Nebraska had. “I hope you feel better soon, West. We’ll be back later.”

The next set of footsteps sounded slightly odd when West compared them to Wash’s or N’s footsteps. As if their legs weren’t in the same position as everyone else’s, if that made any sense. The only person she knew with legs like that was… Cerberus! She was right on the mark as she heard him shift as he sat in the chair next to her bed.

“How are you feeling, West? It’s me, Cerberus.”

She had a feeling that she would be asked that question a lot. She tilted her head towards him as if she was giving him a ‘really?’ look, which caused the other agent to laugh. “Sorry, West. You’ve probably heard that a lot already. It’s good to see you awake.”

West squeezed his hand, hard. What had happened to the missing drugs?

“I looked through all the rooms of the personnel that Doc gave me, but I couldn’t find anything. But, now that this’s happened, the Director is searching the rooms of everyone on the ship to try find who took those drugs, since they probably sabotaged your healing unit. Doc’s healing unit blew up as well, so we put you in the Recovery room.”

Well, shit. That wasn’t good. West squeezed his hand, again.

“No, no-one else was injured, thankfully. We can’t use the med bays now, since they were mostly wrecked by the fires and explosions. I’m… really glad you’re alright, West. We were all really worried when Doc and Wash pulled you out of the fire.”

West squeezed his hand, softly. She was alright and she would get better. Her friends would understand that, hopefully. She heard him chuckle before he stood, patting her hand. “We’ll be back.”

Her next visitors came together, as West supposed the surgeon wanted to hurry the visits up. She was injured, after all, and needed to rest. But, by god, she wanted to reassure everyone that she was okay.

“Hey, West. Good to see you conscious.” Something patted her hand.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

She really had to chuckle then, giving a short, barking laugh that absolutely killed her throat, making her whine slightly in response. She squeezed the hand of whoever was speaking to her, smiling slightly.

“Sorry West, you’ve probably heard that a lot, haven’t you?”

There was a slight chuckle. “It’s York and North, by the way. It’s good to see you up. Everyone’s been really gloomy, so it’ll be good to see everyone cheering up.”

West smiled, squeezing the hand she was holding. She didn’t know if it was York or North who was holding her hand, but that didn’t really matter. She could hear someone shift on their feet slightly, next to her bed, before she heard someone sigh. “The surgeon wants us out. We’ll come visit later, okay, West?”

She nodded slightly as the two men left. The next set of footsteps were very upbeat, with another person walking more slowly across the room. West felt someone grab her hand, squeezing gently.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake, West! Everyone’s been so depressed with you being unconscious.”

“Donut, maybe you should give West a bit of space. She’s still injured.”

“Oh, of course. Ooh, I should make a cake to celebrate! N can help!”

Doc chuckled as Donut began to think about possible cake recipes. West patted both of their hands, thankful. Breathing in, she forced her throat to work. Doc had probably saved her life.

“Thank…s…” The word got stuck in her throat, hissing on the last ‘s.’

“Hey, don’t try to speak, West! You’re still injured.” She supposed that was Donut, judging by the tone. West was tempted to roll her eyes, but they were bandaged. Inhaling again, she tried to speak, again.

“…Doc…”

Someone patted her hand. “It’s okay, West. I know what you’re trying to say. You’re welcome.”

The medic smiled, squeezing the other medic’s hand. He understood at least. She felt a more eager patting of her hand and assumed that was Donut saying goodbye.


	14. Chapter 14

Recovering was hard. And slow.

It had been nearly a week since West had woken up, and to be honest, it was driving her nuts! She was confined to her bed and had been forbidden from leaving Recovery. The surgeon had even threatened to tie her to the bed if she tried to leave! How insulting!

But she had been kept plenty of company, thanks to her friends. She still wasn’t allowed to see – the surgeons were worried about damage to her eyes and wanted her to rest them for as long as possible- but they had taken away the bandages from her ears, so she could hear by herself again. Zeta was still in shutdown, as instructed by the Director. West was a bit miffed at having to keep her friend shut down for so long, but it was for the best for the both of them. They weren’t sure what a head injury would do to the interactions between an AI and their operator. It was better to be safe than sorry.

She was able to move around Recovery though, which West was grateful for. She couldn’t see a damned thing, resulting in a lot of crashes into furniture and teasing from Erith and the others, but at least she could move around. Sitting in the bed all day would just send her nuts. She was almost ashamed to admit that she’d gotten quite good at navigating Recovery by walking very slowly and holding her hands out ahead of her like she was going to fall over.

They still hadn’t found the culprit. As far as West knew, they only thing that she and her friends knew was that the people responsible had a key to the medical bays and that they may or may not have been in the possession of the stolen drugs. West wasn’t hoping for much. They’d probably already disappeared or been sold, since all three of the painkillers could be used recreationally. They could all cause overdoses, but West could remember when Oxycodone caused a bit of a scare in her home city of Perth, where the use of the painkiller had skyrocketed. Now they were worried about ice, but that had been going on for a while, anyway.

The door of Recovery slid open, making West look up, even though she couldn’t see anything. Habit, she supposed, more than anything else.

“Who is it?” She could place voices now, thankfully, as she didn’t have to rely on Zeta to hear. But she hadn’t been told of anyone visiting, so who was here?

“Just maintenance, ma’am. Just restocking the first aid supplies and medications. Don’t mind me.”

The man had a deep, gruff voice, but didn’t sound familiar. West followed his footsteps with her head, frowning slightly. “And you have a key to the medications?”

There was a slight pause. “Yes ma’am, that’s correct. May I help you with anything?”

“Who else in maintenance has a key to the medical cabinets?”

There was a slight shifting, and West stood up. Something wasn’t right here. “I’m sorry ma’am, but I don’t feel like I have the right to answer that question. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go pick up some more supplies from the cargo bay.”

His footsteps walked away from her, hurried. The medic heard the door open before she started to follow the noise. Slamming her fist into the key pad, the door opened to the hurried running of the maintenance guy. Fucking really?! How stupid was this guy?

West broke into a run, turning to the right, trying to jog as quietly as possible so she could still track the man. He was loud enough anyway, feet slapping noisily against the metal floor, and West just hoped that whoever was in the hallway as well as them was smart enough to stay out of the way. Did he steal the drugs? If he did, why the hell was he returning just over a week later? He was either really fucking stupid or something wasn’t right.

“HEY!” West yelled as loudly as she could, before breaking off in a cough mid sprint. Her throat was still sore, even though it was healing well. She really shouldn’t have been doing this! Oh, the surgeon was going to kill her…

The man mustn’t’ve been too far ahead of her, as she heard him swear loudly before his footsteps changed direction, running down another corridor. Goddamn it! West took the corner sharply, accidentally clipping her shoulder on the wall, with her physical awareness having gone out the window. She stumbled slightly, growling in pain before she took off sprinting again. Even injured and blind, the man was unprepared for how tenacious the medic was-

She tackled him blindly, crashing into him from behind. She hit him too far to the left, however, just managing to hook her right arm around his waist. She was rather strong however, and was throwing her whole body into the tackle, so it was enough to stagger the man, nearly knocking him over.

West scrambled to her feet, just as she felt a leg kick her in the side. She rolled with the impact, coming up on her hands and feet. Fuck! Why was she doing this?! She couldn’t see the man, so when he tried to punch her, he clipped her on the head, making her stagger. He was breathing extremely heavily, so at least she could _sort of_ place where he was. Didn’t do much for trying to defend herself, but at least she was seemingly faster than the man. If she could restrain him…

When the next punch caught her on her left cheek, she felt pain tear through her face. Yeah, no, the surgeon was going to murder her for this. But it gave her a chance to latch onto his arm, and when he tried to rip his arm from her grasp, she yanked him towards her. It caught him off guard, so when he stumbled, she forced him to the ground, where she quickly jabbed him in the eyes and throat, hard. She didn’t need her eyes to incapacitate a man. She felt his hands go to his throat, quickly, as the man began to make choking sounds, too occupied with his throat and face to bother fighting West.

“West! What the hell…?” Wash’s surprised voice echoed from down one end of the corridor, steadily becoming louder as he and another person ran towards then. West stood, holding her arms out in front of her, trying to steady herself. She felt herself swaying very badly when she felt someone catch her arms and shoulders, steadying her. Must’ve been Wash.

“What happened here?” The commanding, female voice could only belong to Carolina. She sounded mostly confused, but with an underlying tone of anger.

West put a hand to her head with a slight grunt, trying to compose herself. Focus, West! It felt like she had reopened the burns on her face, by the way the injury was throbbing and stinging painfully. “Uh... this man, he ran after I started questioning him on whether he had access to the medication in the med bays. He ran, I chased and… well, yeah.” The medic smiled slightly, motioning to the groaning man on the ground. Carolina sighed.

“Wash, can you take West back to Recovery? I’ll take this man to the cells. The Director can question him later.”

West felt her friend’s hands move to pull her arm over his shoulder as they began to walk back towards Recovery, Wash leading the way. “That was silly, West. You’re still injured.”

The medic sighed, wanting to roll her eyes. “I know, Wash, but there was no one else in Recovery at the time and that man seemed shifty as hell.”

The grey and yellow agent chuckled. “The surgeon isn’t going to be happy, you know.”

West groaned, touching her bandaged face with her free hand. “Don’t remind me Wash! He’ll probably try tie me to the bed, like he threatened earlier. I’m doomed.”

Thankfully, they didn’t have to walk too far. There was a slight chatter of voices from within the recovery bay, so when Wash opened the door, the two were almost assaulted with questions and noise.

“Agent West Australia! I gave you specific instructions to remain within this Recovery bay!” West could hear the enraged shriek of the surgeon as she felt hands pulling at her roughly. They retreated, however, when someone shooed the hands away. Wash then lead the medic to her bed, where she sat down with a sigh of relief.

“Wash, can you explain?” West winced as she began to gently probe her face, trying to feel the extent of her re-injury. She felt a pat on her hand and the grey and yellow agent began to explain what had happened.

“West, may I look at your bandages?” West jerked her head up, as Doc patted her hand softly. “We have to change them anyway, and I think the surgeon may be a bit too rough.”

The medic nodded. “Sure, Doc, go ahead. I think I might’ve reopened my burns. Got into a bit of a fistfight with our visitor.” She heard the purple medic chuckle before she felt the outside bandages being unwound from her face. She needed to have her bandaged changed, anyway, to prevent the infection of her wounds. Burns were notorious for getting infected.

The medic winced slightly as she felt the second layer of her bandages being pulled off, revealing the non-adhesive gauze that was protecting her burns. They were still tender and had begun weeping, so Doc was taking very special care when he removed the gauze.

She heard him sigh, softly. “West, you’ve reopened part of your burn. Part of the skin has torn. I’m going to have to re-bandage your wound. That’s okay?”

West nodded. “Yeah, that’s alright Doc.” She heard his footsteps wander over to one of the cupboards to grab some gear. More footsteps wandered over to the bed, so West tried opening her right eye, since it wasn’t covered in burns. She winced, since the LED lights of the Recovery bay were exceedingly bright. She could barely see anything, as everything was extremely blurry. She could see a vague face sitting in front of her, and judging from the atrocious colours of her armour, it was Erith. The brunette agent had been keeping West a fair amount of company since the accident and had repeatedly apologised for leaving the medic alone in the med bay when it had been attacked. The medic had reassured her friend that it wasn’t her fault and that she was glad Erith hadn’t been there, since otherwise she would have been injured too. They hadn’t spoken any further on the investigation.

“Long time no see! How’s your vision, West?”

The medic snorted and gave a lopsided grin to avoid moving the left side of her face. “Thank god most of my vision is blurry. At least I don’t get to see your ugly mug for a while yet.”

The other agent laughed, standing up to allow Doc to sit back in the chair. “It’s good that you’re feeling better. You’d be just the person to chase someone down while blind.”

“Such flattery, Erith! How’s training going, by the way?” The medic smiled slyly, knowing how much the other agent hated Carolina’s training regime. By the groan that came from Erith, West knew that Carolina had been putting the other freelancers through their paces. West wouldn’t expect any different, to be honest. “Hey, who’s here, anyway?”

Doc began to smooth the non-adhesive dressing over West’s wounds, chuckling slightly. There was a slight whoosh sound as Erith flopped down on the opposite bed. “Well, there’s me, Doc, N and Wash… oh, hey Carolina. What’s up?”

Urgent, no-nonsense footsteps came tramping down the Recovery bay. It was strange, how people’s footsteps seemed to match their personalities. While West wanted to look at the other redhead, she was forced to keep her head still while Doc bandaged her face. “West, the man you incapacitated is now secured in the brig. He’s not saying much, other than he was set up.” West heard the cyan agent sigh, seemingly annoyed. “The Counsellor is speaking to him now.”

“And what if he doesn’t tell us anything?” Wash’s voice came from somewhere off to West’s left.

“Then I’ll have a little chat with him.”

Erith snorted while N chuckled. “Sucks to be him.”

“What if he didn’t actually steal the drugs and was actually set up?” West wanted to look at Carolina, to see her reaction, but that wouldn’t do much good. “What will you do?”

“It depends. Well, we’ll find out soon, once we’re done with him.” The agent paused, thinking. “How are you feeling? Did he injure you?”

The medic smiled. “He reopened part of my burns, but otherwise I’m fine. Just feel a bit dizzy from all the running, but that’s normal, I believe. I think the surgeon’s in a worse state than I am. Wouldn’t be surprised if he popped a coronary from the stress.”

Doc chuckled, but West could almost feel the tangible confusion coming from the other agents. She sighed before chuckling. “It’s a blood vessel, guys. Like an artery?”

“We don’t always understand your medical jargon, West. Speak English next time, for Christ’s sake.” West could almost see Erith rolling her eyes, and the medic chuckled in response.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Erith.”


	15. Chapter 15

“If you feel any pain, tell me immediately, okay? We still don’t know how head injuries may affect your interaction or neural interface with your AI. Okay… just a little pinch…”

West winced as she felt a slight pinch at the back of her neck. She was finally having Zeta reactivated! To be honest, she had been missing the red and black AI. After a few days with him in her head, it felt a bit empty, as she had gotten used to feeling his mind brushing against hers.

It had been a few days since that idiot had tried to ‘restock’ the Recovery bay. He’d told the Counsellor nothing, so now Carolina was going to have her way with him. The only thing that he’d said that was he’d been given instructions from an outside source and that he wasn’t expecting any hostile reactions. So basically, he’d been set up. He also had no copy of his instructions, so it was going to be hard to trace whoever had given him the info. But, apparently, someone _else_ had sabotaged the advanced healing units, which were still offline.

The surgeon had been unbelievably mad about West chasing after the man, so Doc had taken over her care while the surgeon took a few days off from dealing with the medic. She didn’t mind. Her eyes were still damaged, but maybe once Z was reactivated, she could use him to see.

It took a few seconds, but West could almost feel like something was refilling her mind, or as if something was waking up. It was hard to describe. When she thought about her interactions with Zeta, it felt like this; she visualised her mind as a sphere, with all her thoughts contained within. Zeta was like a soft mist surrounding her, hovering over the surface; occasionally he would brush the surface of her thoughts, picking up on the outward emotions, and sometimes he would dive more deeply beneath the surface. She supposed that was kind of what it was like, as an AI. She could also feel Zeta’s confusion filling her as he tried to process where he was as his mind brushed hers.

_>>West? Where are we? What happened?>>_

The medic smiled. “Zeta, it’s good to have you awake.”

The little AI grumbled and suddenly appeared from a projector in the wall. West couldn’t see him, but she could sense where he was. She felt him looking through her mind to process what had happened, before realisation set in.

_>>Oh, that is correct. I pulled myself after the advanced healing unit exploded.>>_

West nodded. “How are you feeling, Z?”

_>>Strange, as if I have just woken up from a deep sleep. But that is not possible.>>_

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Z. I had a concussion, so the surgeons thought that our connection might have been affected. It might take a day or so to get back to normal.”

She could feel something like exhaustion in her mind, and she sighed in response.

_>>I am sorry, West. I’m not used to pulling myself or remaining offline for so long. It’s a bit exhausting. How are you? You were injured in the blast?>>_

The medic smiled, motioning to her bandages. “Yeah, I received some burns to my face. They’re taking a while to heal. They reopened when I got into a fight a few days ago.”

Zeta chuckled at that, and she felt him shake his head.

_>>Of course you did.>>_

She smiled in response. “Hey, Zeta, would it be possible for me to see through your eyes?”

_>>My… eyes?>>_

The medic nodded. “Yeah, like the cameras you see through, or whatever. It might make this situation a bit better.”

_>>Well, I can try. Give me a moment, and I will try redirect your optical senses through our neural interface.>>_

Quite suddenly, colour invaded her head, and she put her hand up to her face reflectively. It took a moment, but the image focused to show an image of the Recovery med bay, with the nurse looking at her, eyebrow raised. Holy shit. That actually worked!

West laughed, standing up. The image was a bit low, as she was looking through the camera on her shoulder, but she could actually see! She could feel Zeta’s amusement through their connection, so she spun in a circle to get the full image of the Recovery bay. After a week of darkness, this was extremely invigorating. West turned to the nurse.

“May I go walk around a bit?” West could see the nurse frown, slightly. She wasn’t sure about letting West go out on her own, but she relented with a smile when West made a plea motion with her hands, tilting her head to the side. “Please? I haven’t been able to see for a week. I won’t be long.”

The nurse shook her head and smiled. “Just be back soon. We need to change your bandages.”

The medic grinned, standing up to walk towards the door. She had been allowed to wear her armour since it would help reduce the strain of hosting Zeta for the first time after the explosion. It was a bit disorienting, since she was looking through a camera that was set about a head shorter than her normal height, but she’d get used to it. The medic was grinning excitedly at the fact that she could see and could move around without crashing into anything.

_>>We probably shouldn’t go far, West. You’re still recovering, and I’ve just woken up.>>_

She snorted but smiled. “Z, we’ll be fine. I just want to go surprise everyone. They should be in the training room…”

It took them a bit, but the pair eventually made it to the training room with no incident. West could hear a training match going on, but when the door slid open, the room was empty. Looking through the observation window revealed one of Carolina’s training sessions going on below.

West shrugged. She’d just head down to the floor to say hello. Wandering over to the lift, she punched in the button to the ground floor, waiting patiently as the lift dropped.

The moment the door opened, she felt something yell in her mind -Zeta spasming against her- as she registered something hurtling towards the open lift. The medic reacted instinctively, throwing herself forwards. She rolled once before she hurled herself to the side, just as the massive dumbbells punctured the metal doors of the lift. She came up on her hands and feet, panting at having to react that quickly.

Turning her body towards the lift, she saw that the massive metal weights had crashed through both doors and would have impaled her, had she been standing still.

“What the fuck?!”

“West, shit!”

“Goddamn it, Maine!”

“West, are you okay?”

The medic stood, feeling her hands shake, adrenaline coursing through her. That had been _close_.

_>>West! Are you okay? I’m so sorry for yelling like that…>>_

The tiny red and black AI appeared at West’s shoulder, flickering, before he moved in front of her. He’d been scared. Scared that West would’ve been injured again.

The medic dropped to her knees, giving a relieved sigh, touching her bandages gently. Nothing was injured, thankfully, luckily. She still felt shaky. She had not been expecting that to happen. “Zeta, _thank_ _you_. You probably just saved my life.”

The other freelancers sprinted over to the medic, with Wash and N reaching her first. N almost slid across the ground, kneeling next to her friend before placing a hand on her shoulder. Wash mirrored her, placing a hand on the medic’s shoulder.

“West, are you okay? What are you doing here?!” Wash looked both frustrated and concerned, while N mainly just looked concerned. Over by the rest of the weights, Cerberus was seemingly consoling Maine, who was touching his head softly, growling. Carolina started to corral the remaining agents, the most of whom appeared angry and/or confused.

West shook her head, standing up while waving her friends off. “I’m fine, guys. I wanted to come say hello, since Zeta was reactivated.” She sighed, trying to calm her nerves. “I’m _fine_.”

N frowned, while Erith crossed her arms, scowling. “Are you stupid, West? You’re blind! Why the hell would you just walk into a training match? You could’ve been injured!”

West turned her body to face them, as it was the only way she could see her friends. “I’m not blind, Erith, that’s why I’m here. I’m seeing through Zeta’s eyes, like how I could hear when my eardrums were damaged.”

The other agent huffed angrily, turning away from the medic. “You could’ve been seriously injured, West! You were already injured! Why would you endanger yourself like that?!”

West scowled at her friend. The other woman was probably worried, which was manifesting as anger. It still didn’t mean it grated against her, nerves already jangly from the adrenaline. N placed a hand on West’s shoulder, giving her a stern look. The medic sighed, letting out a slow breath through her nose. Getting into a fight with a worried friend was probably not the best idea. “I’m sorry Erith. I didn’t know that would happen.” She shook her head, turning towards the other exit in the training hall. “I should probably head back to the med bay then.”

Wash nodded, giving a short smile at his friend. N just nodded, smiling briefly as well, before they both turned back to Maine, who was still growling at Cerberus about his head. Was he okay?


	16. Chapter 16

“West! Are you alright?” Doc came sprinting up to the training room, just as West was leaving the room. He must’ve heard the massive crash when Maine threw the dumbbells through the walls of the lift and was accompanied by several other soldiers.

“I’m fine, Doc. Maine threw some weights through the side of the lift. I was just heading back to Recovery.”

The other medic stared at West. “Why did the nurse let you leave? Did you reactivate Zeta? Is anyone injured?”

West shook her head. “It’s hard to explain, but I can see through Zeta. I don’t think anyone’s injured, but you’ll have to check. I don’t think I’m in a state to help anyone.”

Doc gave her a frustrated look, before he nodded and ran with the soldiers into the training hall. West tipped her head upwards, exhaling once, running a hand through her hair before she began to walk back to the Recovery.

_>>West, are you okay?>>_

Zeta was speaking to her in her mind, coiling around her mind in thinly veiled worry. The medic sighed, deciding to speak out loud to respond. “I’m fine, Zeta. I just wasn’t expecting that to happen. I’ll be alright. Just need to wait for the adrenaline to go down.” The medic paused, thinking, while she continued walking. “I hope Maine’s okay.”

_>>He may require a psychiatric assessment, judging by what we saw.>>_

“You might be right, Z.”

The two of them managed to make to the Recovery bay with no problems. It looked like this day was going to be a strange one. The nurse began to fuss over West as Doc had apparently radioed in that something had happened down at the training hall. According to Doc, also, he and some of the other soldiers were bringing Maine to the Recovery. West wasn’t so sure about that. Maine had thrown heavy metal weights through the side of a lift. The medic wasn’t sure if he would still react aggressively or not, or what had actually happened. She’d trust Doc’s judgement, but she was still a bit wary.

About ten minutes later, the agents showed up, with Cerberus guiding Maine over to one of the Recovery beds, where the larger, bald agent sat down. He was growling and shaking his head, repeatedly wincing and pawing at his temples. Did he have a headache? Cerberus was hovering closely but was keeping a small distance between the two. Due to Cerberus’s tail whipping around, agitated, West would assume that he was very, _very_ mad. Not towards Maine but…

“Sigma! Why would you goad Maine into attacking Wash like that?!” The other agent was extremely enraged, baring his slightly pointed canines at the tiny AI, which appeared at Maine’s shoulder. Wait, Maine had attacked _Wash? _He must’ve been standing near the lift, leading to them getting damaged and her nearly being hit. The AI didn’t appear to visibly react, even when Cerberus motioned to West. “And you almost resulted in West being injured! What’s wrong with you?!”

The tiny red AI flared slightly and narrowed his eyes at the other agent. “I do not have to explain my actions to you, Agent Cerberus. Agent Maine and I were operating within acceptable guidelines, and while it resulted in property damage, no personnel were injured. Therefore, I believe that there is no reason for either Agent Maine or I to be here.”

Maine growled slightly and Cerberus’s gaze softened. West felt like this would be a good time for her to raise her eyebrow, but she stepped forwards to address the AI. “Sigma, as a medic, I believe that if you are influencing Maine to attack his own teammates when in a non-hostile training match, then you are a liability and that you are not acting within ‘acceptable’ guidelines. Your actions could have possibly resulted in the injuries of your teammates, and you almost seriously injured _me_.”

Zeta appeared at her shoulder, and she felt him crossing his arms. He wasn’t pleased about this, and West could feel his slight anger and resentment towards the other AI, even though he saw Sigma as his brother. Glancing at the hologram, she felt a slow gratefulness permeating through her- Zeta’s loyalty to her outweighed his loyalty to his fellow AI. She was so lucky to have him as a partner.

_>>Sigma, I agree with West. It is not correct to act in this way, if one of the possible outcomes is the injury of a teammate. I am requesting you pull yourself while a psychiatric assessment is done on Maine.>>_

West could feel the glare of Sigma, red and orange hologram flickering angrily, but against the weight of so many agents, he nodded and relented.

“My apologies. I did not mean to cause this much distress. But if you wish me to pull myself from Agent Maine, I must request that you give me confirmation from the Director himself. Otherwise, I will do no such thing.”

The medic could feel Zeta’s anger in the back of her mind, the mist twisting, volatile, against her own mind, but she refused to allow it to influence her actions. She did frown, however, before she turned to Doc. The purple medic nodded.

“I’ll radio the Counsellor. He can get confirmation, Sigma, and then he can conduct the test.”

West frowned but nodded. She didn’t trust the Counsellor, but she wasn’t trained for dealing with the mental health of her patients. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The medic was trained to recognise and respond to different mental health emergencies, but this was well out of her scope as her training covered the major mental illnesses, nothing more specific. To her knowledge, there had be no major difficulties for agents who had had their AI integrations- there was no precedent for what was happening to Maine. She had no choice but to hand this over to the Counsellor.

She turned to Cerberus, who nodded stiffly before giving her a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

It had been a few hours since Maine and Sigma had been brought in, and they had received no response from the Director. West found this beyond infuriating, but there was nothing she could do. Doc had hung around to observe Maine’s behaviour while the nurse replaced West’s bandages. Thankfully, with Cerberus there, Maine had calmed down a fair amount, with no obvious signs of aggression in the large man’s conversations.

West was lying on one of the Recovery beds, absolutely bored out of her mind. Cerberus and Maine had been growling to each other softly for most of the time, which West supposed was their own private language. Cerberus still seemed very stiff and disconnected, which was unusual for him. She hadn’t seen him smile much since arriving, asides from when she basically told off Sigma, which struck her as unusual for the man. Maybe he was worried about Maine, but this felt different.

The door across the room slid open, and the Director stalked in, Nebraska in tow. Doc scrambled up, and one of the AI surgeons appeared from the office at the end of the room.

“We’re all ready, sir.” She nodded to N, who glanced over to West, giving her a nervous, excited smile. Wait. She was receiving her AI! “If you’ll come with me, Agent Nebraska.”

N gave her a grin, nerves making her jittery, before obediently following the surgeon. Why hadn’t West heard about N’s implantation? But, then again, she wasn’t told much.

As the doors to the waiting room before the operating theatre slid closed, the Director turned to Cerberus and Maine, who were watching him warily. Fuck, she didn’t blame them.

“Agent Maine, due to your conduct today and after a request from both Agent Dufresne and Agent West Australia, I am giving the Counsellor permission to run a psychiatric assessment on the well-being of you and your AI. Sigma, the Counsellor will explain what you are required to do.” He fixed his stern gaze on Maine and Sigma before turning slightly to Cerberus. From West’s position, she saw his gaze soften a fraction when looking at the agent. Oh? “Agent Cerberus, is Guardian settling in well?”

Cerberus gave a tight, thin smile. “I’ll get used to him, sir.” And that was that. The Director pulled himself up slightly, nodded once before he stalked out of the room. West shared a confused glance with Doc. What was that about?

“Hey, Cerberus, what was that about?” West swung her legs over the side of the bed she was lying on, sitting up to look at her friend. He shook his head, dismissive.

“I received my AI. I’m fine, West, don’t worry.”

The medic frowned. His clipped tone indicated that he wanted her to drop the subject. She wasn’t used to seeing him so… unhappy? She wasn’t sure how to describe it.

West narrowed her eyes, but nodded once, relenting. If he wanted to discuss it, he would. “Okay.”

A few minutes later, the Counsellor appeared at the door. Maine and Cerberus stood and without a word, began to follow the man out of the room. West sighed from her position on the bed. She hoped the two of them would be alright. The Counsellor freaked her out a bit. That made her snort. _Just a little bit, eh?_

With Maine no longer in the room, Doc headed off to his own unit as he was supposed to give the Reds and Blues their normal check-ups, much to the embarrassment of his crew. It was something West was glad she didn’t have to do, as the Freelancers were such a highly trained group. They didn’t need to be checked up on as regularly. The other nurse was in the office, doing paperwork of some sort. The room was quiet otherwise, soft beeping lulling her into a sense of peace.

West yawned slightly, startling herself from the light doze she’d entered. Well, maybe she’d have a quick nap…

The medic woke to the sounds of someone arguing. Grumbling, she felt Zeta seem to wake up at the same time. Maybe it was some sort of hibernation? Some sort of low power mode to prevent over-stimulation of her mind? Eh, she didn’t really know and she could always find out later.

“No, you can’t call me Lam! My name is Lambda! Call me that!”

The medic rubbed her eyes, sitting up from her bed. “N? You okay?”

The other agent was sitting, arms crossed, while staring at a tiny, cotton candy pink hologram. She scowled at the AI while it crossed its arms, mirroring its agent. West stood, wandering over to the pair. What time was it?

_>>It is currently 2051.>>_

“Thanks Z.”

N motioned to West and Z’s hologram, giving a sigh of exasperation. “See, Lam? Be more like Zeta. Zeta’s a good AI.”

The tiny, pink AI scowled, glaring at her person. “Are you serious?!”

West snorted, smiling, before she laughed. “Can’t you guys get along? When did you wake up, anyway, N?”

The purple and silver agent snorted. “Just a few minutes ago. They knocked me out since Lam was being a bit… stubborn.”

The pink AI grumbled while N swatted at the hologram. Her hand passed straight through, and Lam made a raspberry sound at the agent. West could feel Zeta’s slight exasperation and mild amusement, and she chuckled in response.

“Well, I’ll let you two… bond. Have fun!”

N laughed while Lambda remained stubbornly quiet as West wandered back to her bed.

Lambda would certainly be an interesting addition to the team.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! My exams are over - thankfully! - so I'm making it my project to finish this bloody thing by the end of summer. The artwork in this chapter was done by my good friend at https://twitter.com/muddylaneart?lang=en, so be sure to check her twitter out! She did the artwork in the other chapter as well.  
Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter!  
\- Catherine/Delirious

West had to say, everyone was getting rather frustrated with the new addition to the team. N’s new AI, Lambda, was frankly, a bit of a bitch. Or to put it nicely, was fond of pissing people off. It was the second day after N had received the pink AI, and she was already getting on everyone’s nerves.

West had been forced to remain in Recovery, after what had happened with Maine. There’d been no news from the Counsellor, which was quite frustrating. Even though she could see, she wasn’t allowed to leave, which was exasperating and sending her a little bit crazy. At the moment, the nurse was busy, and Doc was out with his own crew, so the medic was the only medical personnel in the Recovery med bay. So, when N came in, hand bleeding everywhere, West just sighed and grabbed some supplies.

“N, what did you do this time?”

The purple and silver agent laughed sheepishly. “I’m still getting used to having Lam in my head. She distracted me while I was cutting something in the kitchen.”

West shook her head and smiled. “N, you do that to yourself anyway.”

“…Good point.”

It wasn’t a deep cut, thankfully. Well, it was bleeding badly, but it wasn’t the worst laceration in the world. A quick wash, some gauze, and some rest, and it would be all fine. The medic was still getting used to using the camera on her shoulder to see, but she was becoming quite good at reaching for items and whatnot, so she figured she’d be alright dealing with a simple laceration.

_>>Do you require any assistance, West?>>_

Z popped up at West’s shoulder. She shook her head and smile. “I’m right, Z, thanks.”

It was at that point in time that Lambda decided to appear at N’s shoulder. She peered, curiously, at Zeta. West could feel his uncertainty. AI fragments weren’t supposed to speak to one another, but Lam crossed her arms and tossed her hair out of her eye, giving Zeta a sceptical look.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Zeta looked at West for confirmation. The medic smiled and nodded towards the pink hologram. “It’s fine, Z. Go ahead.”

Lambda snorted. “You’re really whipped.”

West’s AI sighed.

_>>It’s nice to meet you. I’m Zeta.>>_

“Lambda. That’s my name. So, call me by that. Not this Lam shit, or whatever.”

West snorted, and she could feel Zeta’s sigh inside her mind, again. “Ball of sunshine, you are.”

N gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry West.”

The medic laughed, slightly. She was almost done irrigating N’s hand with the bottle of saline. Once she was done, she placed it to the side, before grabbing a few pieces of gauze to dab the wound dry. Lam decided to butt in at that point, much to West’s – and Zeta’s – annoyance. It always annoyed West when someone tried to tell her how to do her job. Don’t get her wrong, criticism was important and useful for improving and developing your skills! Being condescending and not giving good advice was a good way to get punched. Her temperament seemed to be rubbing off on Zeta as well.

“Agent West Australia, are you sure that’s the right way to apply gauze? Because in my sources there’s a far more efficient way if you just-“

The medic rolled her eyes. “Lambda, I will say this in the nicest way possible. Please be quiet. I’m a medic. I know how to apply fucking gauze.”

N smiled sheepishly, waving her hand through Lam’s hologram, to the annoyance of the tiny AI. West just smoothed the primapore over the laceration before nodding to N.

“You should be fine. You know how to deal with cuts?”

The other agent chuckled. “I’ll be fine, West. I’ve injured myself enough times to be able to look after cuts like these.” She stood, smiling at the medic. “Thanks, West. Sorry for Lambda.”

The medic waved it off. “It’s no problem. It always takes a bit to get used to.”

N smiled, before she said her goodbyes, leaving West in the Recovery bay. The medic sighed before she returned to her bed. It was a bit lonely, as everyone was busy at the moment. At least she had Z to talk to.

_>>West, are you okay?>>_

“Hm? What do you mean, Z?”

_>>Agent Erith. You haven’t spoken to her since we went to the training room, and she has not tried contacting you. Are you okay?>>_

The medic stared up at the ceiling before sighing. “Yeah, I’m fine. She got angry since she was worried, I reckon. I wouldn’t be surprised if she needed a few days to come down from it.”

_>>Do you want to talk about it?>>_

“Nah, it’s okay. But thanks.”

She felt Zeta nod in her head.

_>>It is getting close to dinner. Should we go to the mess hall?>>_

West sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, that should be alright. Won’t be doing anything dangerous there, probably, but knowing our friends…”

She could feel Zeta chuckle as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Thankfully, she was going to have her bandages removed soon. She’d already had most of them taken away, leaving only a single layer, but she was looking forward to being able to use her own eyes again.

Standing, she made her way towards the door before she and Zeta headed to the mess hall.

“CERBERUS!”

The two were nearly at the mess hall when West heard someone yell, in what sounded like panic. West paused, for about a second, before she sprinted towards the mess hall. She was there in less than ten seconds, when she was confronted with Cerberus snarling and… roaring? It sounded more animal than human and left her almost dumbfounded for a moment. She didn’t think her friend would ever be capable of making those sounds, but shit, this was happening.

Cerberus was standing, hunched over and panting, in the centre of all the chaos. A few metres away, about three tables were upturned, holes punched through them. A few soldiers were lying unconscious, and everyone seemed almost too shocked to move as Cerberus seemed to lunge after Maine, who had Sigma perched on his shoulder. West reacted automatically, tackling Cerberus to the ground. She’d only been a few metres away, anyway.

That was probably a bad move, as Cerberus was much stronger than she anticipated. However, she knew how to restrain a person, even if they were much stronger than she was. Wrapping herself around her friend, she restrained his arms before she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Ow! Fuck! He head-butted her! Cerberus had lashed back with his head, managing to smash the back of his head into West’s nose. West yelled in pain, as she pulled her head away from her friend. She didn’t drop her grip, but ow! What the _fuck_ was happening?!

Thankfully, due to West’s tackle, the other agents were spurred into motion. Carolina ran over with South and York, where they pinned Cerberus to the ground, restraining him. He was becoming less frantic, however, beginning to calm down. Oh, thank fuck. Once the other agents managed to pin Cerberus down, West pulled away, stumbling, with her hands going to her nose. Touching her face and nose, she pulled her fingers away before she held them in front of the camera on her shoulder.

Blood. That was a lot of blood. Her nose was probably broken. Or she’d burst a blood vessel when Cerberus had head-butted her. There were a few blood vessels in her nose. This was just fucking _great_.

Within a few minutes, the whole mess hall was crowded with agents and soldiers wanting to find out what had happened. Suddenly, the door burst in, revealing the Director with the largest scowl on his face that West had ever seen. His face looked as if it was going to split in two from the force of it. He was accompanied with several personnel that dealt with AI, who rushed over to Cerberus. The agent had stopped thrashing, and when the AI guys picked him up, offering up a muzzle to the agent, he relented and followed.

Once his muzzle – that was the only thing you could call it, what the hell was going _on_?- was snapped into place, he was ushered towards the door. He did turn, once, to snarl at Maine before he stalked off. No, that didn’t seem right. Cerberus wouldn’t attack _Maine._ They were friends! When Cerberus passed the Director, the man touched Cerberus’s shoulder gently before turning to nod at the Counsellor. He then followed the AI personnel and Cerberus, shutting the doors behind him.

The Counsellor sighed, raising his arms to silence the muttering crowd. “Agent Cerberus will be fine. He is just having some… problems adjusting to his AI. The Director will answer any urgent questions later, but for now, please go ahead with your normal routine.” He then turned tail and left. Fine? They considered that _fine?_

West grunted in pain, still holding her face. She walked over to the closest table before slumping down on the adjoining seat. Most of the soldiers began to wander away, before West steeled herself, standing up. She needed to go strap her nose, since it felt like some of the bones had been shifted out of place. Her nose was still leaking blood, running down her face. She couldn’t see it, but she kept her hands in place to keep her nose still. Ugh. She’d have to wash her gloves later.

“West? Why are you holding your nose… shit!” Erith had turned to see West clutching her nose. She had only come after Cerberus had been tackled to the ground, so she hadn’t seen the enraged agent head-butt his friend. “Are you okay?!”

West waved her free hand, snuffling slightly from the blood leaking from her nose. _Encourage patient to apply pressure to the bridge of nose-_ wait, that was nose bleeds. _Discourage patients from blowing their nose and dislodging any formed clots. _That was management for a nosebleed, but fuck, still applied. “I just need to go deal with this. Give me twenty minutes.”

Erith frowned. “I’m coming with you.”

“Where are you guys going- West, is that blood?!” North had wandered over to see how the medic was when he spotted the blood dripping down the woman’s face. She sighed, giving a half smile.

“I’m going back to Recovery. I’m going to miss dinner at this point…” She grumbled the last part, missing the look Erith shot North, who nodded in response. She turned, heading towards the door, when she felt Erith slip in step next to her. Once they were in the corridor, West decided to use Zeta to see how bad her nose was. “Z, how bad’s my nose?”

The AI popped up at her shoulder, floating just in her field of view.

_>>You have fractured the nasal bone. It is only a green-stick fracture, however, and with proper support, it should heal in time.>>_

The medic sighed. Just what she needed. Another injury. “Thanks Z.” The small AI nodded before disappearing back into her head. He was concerned about Erith, who was remaining quiet. She was keeping pace with her, but had her head tipped to the ground, seemingly warring with herself. With a deep breath in, she turned to look at the medic.

“West… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you or get that angry, but after what Maine did, and how quickly it happened…” Erith exhaled sharply, sounding frustrated.

“It’s okay. You were worried. I can do some stupid things, don’t worry.”

The two walked in silence for a few minutes. “So… we’re all good?”

West smiled. “Yeah, we’re all good, Erith. Don’t worry.”

The other agent smiled before it morphed into a full-blown grin. “Good. I actually have something for you, if you want it. I was going to give it to you earlier but…” Erith laughed, grinning sheepishly. “This seems like a good time to give it.”

“What is it?”

The other agent laughed. “You’ll just have to wait and see! I smuggled it on the ship, so don’t tell the Director or he’ll have my hide.” That last part was delivered dryly, with a shared look.

West chuckled. “No problem. I can do that.”

A few minutes later, the two agents made it to Recovery. Erith disappeared to go retrieve her gift, so West ended up strapping her nose. She had to take some of the bandages off her face, revealing the gauze underneath, but she did need to strap it. It still hurt badly – it was a fracture, so no shit – but after she took a couple ibuprofen tablets and sprayed some cophenylcaine spray up her nose to stop the bleeding, the pain subsided somewhat. She’d also cleaned the blood of her face, gingerly dabbing at the healing wound on her neck. She’d have pain for the next few weeks and a horrific bruise within the next few days, but what happened, happened.

It did allow her to get a good look at her injuries though, in the massive mirror she had dragged over to the bed in order to strap her face. Most of her left eye was swollen shut, as her whole eye was covered in healing scar tissue. The medic couldn’t help but wince. She was going to have a massive scar on her face, as the edge of the healing tissue stretched from just above her left eye to the edge of her nose. It would fade somewhat with time, but she’d always have a scar. Oh well.

Erith appeared in the Recovery bay a few minutes later, with North, York and Carolina in tow, surprisingly enough. They were all holding trays of food, with York and North carrying two trays each, which West supposed were for her and Erith. Speaking of Erith, the agent grinned, holding out a small bowl in her hands. The medic stared at it curiously before a small, black and gold fish swam out from behind a plant decoration to ogle at the room.

West couldn’t help but laugh. “A fish? You got me a fish.”

The other agent shrugged, grinning. “Aren’t animals supposed to calm people down or some shit? I dunno, I just thought it’d be a good present.”

Carolina took one look at the fish before she shook her head. “Don’t let the Counsellor or the Director see that, Erith. You know pets aren’t allowed on the Mother of Invention.”

West chuckled, shaking her head as the cyan agent perched on one of the beds, giving a tight smile. York and North both seemed pretty tense as well. Not surprising, considering what had happened. “He can stay in my med bay once it gets fixed up.”

North smiled, passing West a tray of food. She nodded her thanks and the five agents began to eat in silence. After a few minutes of picking at her food, West picked up her courage, needing to ask.

“Carolina, do you know what happened to Cerberus?”

The other redhead sighed, briefly, eyes shutting for a moment in… distress? Cerberus had mentioned something about seeing Carolina as a sister at one point, so West thought that she might be more well informed than she was. Carolina shook her head, raising it from her food to look at West. “I’m sorry, West. The Director hasn’t told me much, other than Cerberus had his AI implanted a few days ago. And that it was alien.”

Everyone in the room paused before York almost dropped his fork, catching it with a slight fumble. “I’m sorry?!”

“Alien. How is that possible, Carolina?!” North gave Carolina a disbelieving look, who shrugged in response.

“I don’t know, other than it was part of the data that we ripped from that Covenant ship we rescued the Reds and Blues from. The Director didn’t say much else. I’m… worried about Cerberus. I’m not sure what having that thing in his mind will do to him.”

The other agents fell quiet. West frowned. “Is that why he attacked Maine in the mess hall?”

Carolina shook her head. “I don’t know. West, I’m sorry I can’t give you more information.”

The agents fell back into the worried silence, returning to their food. She just hoped her friend was okay. If she let the worry consume her, it would take over every aspect of her, and there was enough shit going on.

They ate in a companionable silence, although the worry kept everyone’s voices quiet and soft. York, North and Erith ate quickly and left within half an hour, needing to return their trays, but West caught Carolina’s arm as she turned to follow. Turning back to the medic, the line of her shoulders was stiff, defensive. It was born out of concern rather than hostility, which made her less cautious than she'd normally be with Carolina that tense.

“Yes?”

The medic exhaled, releasing Carolina’s arm to run her hand through her hair. This wasn’t going to be a light conversation, and she’d need to tread carefully. Alright.

“What is Cerberus?”

The cyan agent’s shoulders stiffened a fraction more. “I can’t answer that-“

“Carolina. I’ve been through the medical files of everyone in our squad. Only Cerberus’s is classified. I haven’t had to treat him yet, but there may be the possibility in the future, and I want to make sure I can give him the best possible care I can. Please?” She wrapped her arms around her torso, watching the other agent carefully. Carolina’s face was immovable, a mask betraying nothing, before she sighed, mask fracturing slightly, allowing worry and exhaustion to seep through.

“We don’t know what he is.” Glancing to the door, she snagged West’s wrist and dragged her towards the office, before she shut the door behind her, locked it, and turned off the computer and anything that could be remotely accessed. She’d call that paranoia, but considering who they worked under…

West moved to the cot, sitting to make the other woman a tad more relaxed, but she remained hovering at the door, thrumming with a nervous energy. She’d never seen the other woman this keyed up, even in the face of seemingly impossible missions. Carolina took a breath. “He’s an alien. Obviously, but we don’t know where he came from or what species he his. Since we don’t have a comprehensive list of all the different species in the universe, there’s the possibility we haven’t contacted his kind yet.” She began to pace, needing to keep moving, “They found Cerberus when he was a child, and the Director considered that he was a genetically manipulated human considering how close he appears to human, but he wasn’t.”

The woman growled, still pacing. “They keep pushing him; they always performed experiments on him when we were younger- I don’t think they’ve stopped. The AI he’s been given is just another one.”

Wait, hold on- “Carolina, you said ‘_when we were younger.’_ What did you mean by that?”

Carolina fixed her with a fierce gaze, intensity burning through her. “This doesn’t leave this room. Understand?”

“I thought that was implied, ‘Lina.” West snorted, giving Carolina a soft smile. The joke cut through the protective hostility and concern the other woman was emanating, and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. Reaching into a small compartment in her armour, the woman removed something old and worn, crumpled and creased over the years. A photograph? She was handed the worn photo, Carolina eyeing it protectively as it left her hand. In the picture, two kids were playing – obviously Carolina and Cerberus, just a hell of a lot younger – without a care in the world, laughing jubilantly and excitedly. West could almost hear the laughter and playful screams.

“I have a few. Not many- my father discouraged the practise. Cerberus and I… we were raised together. When the Director was conducting his experiments on him, I was allowed to observe, and we were often left alone for long periods of time. This went on for _years. _He’s never known anything outside of a lab and the Program. I have to protect him, West.” The rare moment of vulnerability left West stunned. This was a lot to reveal. Walking over to Carolina, she placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly as the agent fixed her with a scrutinising look.

“That was a lot to reveal to me, and I can see that it was very important to you. Thank you for telling me, Carolina. I can image that took a lot of courage.”

The other woman snorted, pulling up to her full height and West withdrew her hand and handed her back her photograph. “I think…” She sighed, frowning, brow creasing slightly, as she thought over her words. She didn’t struggle, just considered them carefully. “I think it needed to be said. I’ve been sworn to secrecy over this, but I’m the closest thing he has to a family. I need to protect him, but there’s nothing wrong with asking other people for help.” She gave West a wry smile as she crossed her arms. “Look after him, okay? As best you can.”

The medic nodded, and the other agent, satisfied, turned to unlock the door. Squaring her shoulders, any trace of the vulnerability that West had seen was hidden away, carefully tucked back into place as she transformed back into the formidable Agent Carolina.

She was out the door in the next moment, with West lingering in the office, watching her go. Cerberus wasn’t the only person she was going to look out for. She was going to make sure her whole team came out of this as unscathed as possible.

West made that promise, resolve strengthening. This wasn’t a promise she would break.


	18. Chapter 18

The next few days were met with an unnerving and tense silence. West hadn’t heard anything from Cerberus, or even the Director. She wasn’t expecting much from him, though, since the imposing man never really told her or the other agents anything.

So, the medic had been left in the dark with her broken nose and healing face. Her friends had continued to visit the Recovery med bay, either to keep her company or to give her updates on what was happening around the ship. Carolina had popped in to tell the medic that, while they hadn’t found the missing drugs, she was personally investigating the man’s contacts to try and track down whoever blew up the med bay. That was better than nothing, she supposed.

Her nose with still aching, and had swollen up to leave West’s face even more puffy and red. She’d given herself anti-inflammatories, which would help the swelling, but her face now had a massive, purple-black bruise that covered her nose. It was a bit unsightly, but that didn’t really bother the medic. The pain was more annoying than anything else, but West couldn’t help that. Doc had also removed the bandages and gauze on her face, to inspect the skin integrity of the healthy skin on her face. There was a bit of breakdown and exudation at the edge of the burn, so the medic was a touch concerned at the state of the woman’s skin. There was no sign of infection, but they would need to keep a _very _close eye on it. It would take a while for the tissue to fully heal, but that was the same for all injuries.

The agents had all been a bit tense and cautious, as West supposed most were worried about Cerberus. From what Wash had told her, the Reds and Blues were worried about the agent as well, with Junior apparently asking Tucker where his friend was. Cerberus was a good friend to the cyan agent and alien baby as he often took care of Junior.

West huffed, arms crossed over her chest as she lounged on one of the beds in the Recovery bay. The worry was almost tangible at this point, coiling around all of them, threatening to choke. Hmmm…

The medic sat up, an idea forming in her head. Why not? It might be an interesting thing to do…

_>>What are you thinking about, West? What’s ‘AFL’?>>_

The redhead laughed. “It’s a… game, from my home country. Australian football, essentially. It might be a good way to cheer everyone up. Actually… the training hall should be big enough to fit everyone in, and if we get the Reds, Blues and Freelancers…”

The medic stood, a smile creeping onto her face. AFL was an extremely popular game that was played back home in Australia. She could still remember, when she was 16, when the West Coast Eagles, (her supporting team), and the Fremantle Dockers, (the only other West Australian team), had been first and second on the national ladder. That had been an exciting season, with the eastern states giving them a _lot _of shit. While the Dockers got knocked out of the finals, the Eagles managed to get into the finals against Hawthorne. They lost, sadly, but for most people in her country, AFL was a staple sport. Even if you didn’t know the game well, you’d either played it as a kid or could at least recite most of the teams. West had done both of those things. (And still could!)

Grinning, she started making her way to the door. Most of the freelancers should be in the training hall already, so if she caught Carolina and asked her if she could stage a match between the Freelancers and Reds and Blues…

Walking swiftly, she managed to make it to the training hall within a few minutes. Taking the stairs down, she was faced with the Freelancer’s normal training regime, although it lacked its usual vigour.

“Carolina!” The medic called out to the cyan agent, who was standing and surveying her crew while they practised sparring, metallic ringing emanating occasionally as people crashed together. She turned, and when she caught sight of West, gave a short smile.

“West. What can I do for you?”

The medic smiled, almost sheepishly, before she launched into her plan. “I was wondering if I could hold a footie match to cheer everyone up.”

“…footie?”

“Oh, sorry. Australian football. It’s a good game. It might be helpful in cheering everyone up. We can get the Reds and Blues involved as well.”

The medic received a sceptical look. “We play… for fun? But we need to train, West.”

“Well, it might be useful in helping everyone learn how to be light on their feet. There’s a lot of tackling. Trust me, Lina, it’ll be good for everyone.”

The other redhead watched the medic for a few seconds before she sighed, giving a slight smile. “That might be just what we need at the moment. Okay. What do you need?”

West turned to survey the freelancers. “Well, we need to go get the Reds and Blues, if they’re not busy,” Carolina snorted, so she supposed they weren’t, “and we need some markers for goals. And a scoreboard. Oh, and a ball. Do you have any rugby balls? It’s the closest thing to an AFL footy.”

Carolina paused. “Ah, I don’t know about a ball, but I can ask FILISS to get you the equipment you need. HEY, ERITH!” She cupped her hands over her mouth, calling out to the teal and orange agent. Her head shot up from where she was being pinned to the ground by South, who let her go. She jogged over to the two, panting slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Erith, can you go get the Reds and Blues? West wants to organise a game of some sort between us and them.”

The brunette nodded, heading over to the stairs. Good.

Wandering over to the supply cabinet, West pulled out several bright yellow markers that would stand out very clearly against the darker background of the training room wall. If she stuck them to the actual wall, she was left with four vertical lines on the wall, with about a metre and a half between each marker. She could feel the freelancers begin to watch her curiously as Carolina called for their attention, but she didn’t pay them any attention until she had finished setting up two sets of the markers, on opposite ends of the wall. Standing with her hands on her hips, she grinned. Perfect.

It was at that point in time when the Blood Gulch Crew rocked up, grumbling and complaining as they usually did. West couldn’t help but grin. If she managed to get everyone into playing, it would be quite fun, and she couldn’t imagine how the match would go. The Freelancers were the superior squad, but the Reds and Blues had a knack for winning if they all pulled their shit together.

West wandered over to the supply closest, picking up a silver, shiny whistle and a red football, which seemed to be nearly a decade old. It was old and worn, red fabric having faded over time, but it would do the job. She then went over to stand next to Carolina, who was staring at the group, arms crossed.

“Oi, why the fuck are we here? You woke me up from my beauty sleep.” Grif grumbled, crossing his arms while scowling at the two freelancers. Simmons wacked him upside the head, and the two began to bicker between themselves. Carolina looked to West with a raised eyebrow and a sigh. The medic chuckled slightly and smiled, shaking her head.

“Hey, lovebirds! Shut up and listen!” Erith yelled from the back of the group. West grinned and nodded in thanks.

“So, I figured it might be a bit of fun to have a friendly AFL match between the Freelancers and the Reds and Blues.”

“Uh… AFL?” Wash raised an eyebrow while crossing his arms. West nodded.

“Australian football. It’s a fun game to play with friends. You have two teams and you have to score goals in order to score points. A goal is when you kick the ball in between the two middle posts, which is six points.”

“What are the other posts for then? Decoration?” South looked rather unimpressed. North just shushed her, to which she shot him a scathing glare.

“No, if you kick a goal in between those posts, you get one point. That also happens if you hit the post with the ball. When playing, you can either kick or handball the ball. No throwing that ball. If you throw the ball, it gets handed over to the other team.”

“And, what’s a handball?” York asked curiously. He was standing near the front of the group, so she just decided to demonstrate herself by hand-balling the footy to York. He hand-balled it clumsily back but managed to not stuff it up, West flashing him a quick smile.

“That, basically. It’s not hard to learn. You can also kick the ball. If you manage to catch a ball without it touching the ground, it’s called a mark, and that means you can get a free kick. You also have to bounce the ball on the ground every few metres and once you bounce it twice, you have to kick or handball the ball to someone else. Otherwise, it’s a handover. Also, you can tackle people, but only below the waist. You guys get all that? It’s not hard to pick up.”

You could almost see South’s eyes light up as soon as West mentioned tackling, but most of the agents nodded, some more enthusiastic than others. Carolina looked to West with a raise eyebrow. “Teams?”

The medic nodded, counting the number of heads. There were seven Reds and Blues and eleven freelancers, not including herself or Doc, who was standing off to the side. “Okay, two freelancers will have to play for the Reds and Blues.”

“Tex. We’ll take Tex.” Church’s voice erupted urgently from his position at the back. The agent in question shrugged, moving to stand with Church, who looked a tiny bit more relieved. West chuckled, and Wash nodded towards West, moving to stand next to Tucker, who gave him a lopsided grin.

“Okay, that’s the teams sorted. I’ll be umpiring. The Blood Gulch Crew can score this way,” She pointed to the set of goals near the destroyed lift, “And the freelancers can score that way.”

She gave the two teams a few minutes to decide where they wanted to place people in terms of defence, midfield and attacking. It was quite entertaining to see where everyone was being placed; in the Blood Gulch defence was Grif, Wash and Caboose, their midfield consisted of Tucker, Simmons and Sarge, while Donut and Tex were attacking. The freelancers had apparently set their team up to mirror the other crew’s; in defence was Carolina, North and York, the midfielders were Maine, Wyoming and Florida while South and Erith were attacking. After West had explained the rules, again, she called for a member from each team to do the toss up of the ball. Maine was chosen for the freelancers, and Simmons was tearfully pressured into facing the massive freelancer for Blood Gulch.

The two stood face to face, about a metre and a half when West threw the ball up in the air. Maine jumped and tapped the ball to Florida, who ran, bounced the ball before trying to do a dismal handball to Wyoming. The ball bounced, and while Wyoming stumbled for the ball, Tucker sprinted towards the white freelancer, snatching the ball up. He ran towards his scoring end, almost being tackled by Maine, who just narrowly missed the cyan agent. Tucker managed to pass the ball off to Donut, who fumbled with the ball before Tex grabbed it. Carolina charged towards the blond agent, who was a second too slow in passing the ball off to Donut. The cyan agent tackled Tex to the ground, managing to fling her arms around her waist.

West blew her whistle, motioning with her hand towards the Freelancer’s side. “Carolina’s ball.”

Tex grumbled but relented, and the redheaded agent kicked the ball over to Maine, who caught the ball. He kept running, hand-balling the ball off to South, who just charged towards the goals. Wash attempted to tackle the purple agent, but he missed, managing to send himself skidding across the ground as South sidestepped him in a fluid movement. “Caboose, South needs your help!”

You could just hear South’s scream of “Oh hell no!” before she was tackled to the ground by an overexcited Caboose, who managed to get a turnover. Wash took the kick, managing to kick the ball to Church, who hand-balled it to Tex, who kicked the footy into the goal.

The medic grinned, blowing the whistle. “That’s the Reds and Blue’s ball. FILLIS, that’s six points to them.” And the game continued on.

West was glad to say, that after nearly half an hour of playing, everyone seemed to be getting really into the game. Thankfully, everyone was mainly following the rules, though she had to pull some of the Reds and Blues up due to their unwillingness to follow the turnover rules. Currently the freelancers were winning, up by 17 points. It was surprisingly close, so West supposed, that for all their complaining and whining, the Reds and Blues worked really well together. Well, when they were pushed into it. But that wasn’t the point.

They were stopping for a quick break, before the two teams got back to playing. It made West happy to see that they wanted to play her country’s game. Footie was a staple back home, and she had a lot of fond memories playing skirmishes with her friends at school.

“Hey, West! Why don’t you play?” N called out from her position next to Donut. The pink agent raised his head and grinned.

“Yeah, West, why don’t you play with us? I’m sure one of us could umpire for you. You can play your own game! It’ll be fun!”

West grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. The others were looking at her now, but she shook her head. “Sorry, Donut, sorry, N. I’d just thrash all of you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

South gave the medic a disbelieving look. “You’re half blind. How could you thrash any of us, West?”

“Yeah, West. What, you scared of a bunch of amateurs beating the master?” Tucker gave the medic a sly grin before she rolled her eyes. Well, she’d just have to make them regret that.

“I can umpire for you, West.” Wash stood up, smiling slightly. The medic nodded, tossing the silver whistle to her friend. They could always self-umpire, if Wash ended up missing penalties, not that she thought he would. “Should we play another quarter?”

Everyone nodded, taking their previous positions on the field. West was playing in midfield, however, as Church was now in defence. Maine was standing, ready for the tossup, when West stood opposite. She couldn’t help but grin. It had been so long since she had last played! And, even though Maine was nearly half a metre taller than her, she was excited. She was an Aussie. This was in her blood!

When Wash blew the whistle, tossing the ball up, West just managed to twist her body into tapping the ball over to Sarge, who took off running. Maine shot a confused look at the medic, who couldn’t help but laugh. People always underestimated how high she could jump!

Running alongside Sarge, she received a handball from him before she passed the ball onto Tex, who dodged Carolina narrowly, who had been getting very competitive. York dived for Tex as well, but she managed to handball the ball into the goal. West grinned. That counted!

Wash blew the whistle, grinning slightly at West. “Six points to the Blood Gulch Crew.”

As the game progressed, West had to marvel at how easily the game came back to her. Even though she was using a camera to see, and her face was swollen, she was easily navigating the game. South was getting rather frustrated as a result, having been tackled by West in their end of the field, leading to a litany of swearing and colourful insults. Not to be outdone, the Reds and Blues had responded with their own collection of insults, although most were delivered playfully and not designed to hurt. The Blood Gulch Crew were getting excited as a result of the recent goal, and within nearly ten minutes of playing, they had overtaken the freelancers by ten points.

When the quarter ended, and Wash blew the whistle, most of the Reds and Blues ended up cheering and high fiving each other. West supposed that they were happy at having beaten the freelancers at something. She had to say, the other agents took losing in good spirits, shaking hands with the other team. South offered her hand to West, who shook it with a triumphant grin. South just rolled her eyes, grinned, before she went over to slap her brother on the back. Even Carolina offered her hand to Tex, who looked at the cyan agent for a moment before accepting her handshake with a smile. Wash shot the medic a grin, which she gladly returned. That had been a good game, and everyone seemed to be much happier as a result.

They’d timed the game well, as the lunch bell ran not a minute after the game ended. The freelancers and other agents began to wander out, chatting to each other, while West hung around to pack up the equipment. She was still pumped from the excitement of the game, but that would wear off.

But, for now, she was feeling a lot happier than she had been in the past few days.


	19. Chapter 19

The freelancers had just entered the mess hall when a panting soldier ran up to them. West had been walking with Wash, with the other agents already having entered the mess hall, Doc lingering on the threshold to wait for them. The soldier was almost hyperventilating and was extremely out of breath, hands on his knees to steady himself while he sucked in a few frantic breaths. Where had he come from?

“Agent West Australia, Agent Dufresne! We need your help! Agent Cerberus was just brought in and he’s seriously injured! He’s in Recovery!”

West turned, sharply, to look at Doc, who nodded quickly. Together, the medics headed out the mess hall, shoving past the incoming soldiers before they began to sprint towards Recovery. It only took a few minutes, running as they were, where both West and Doc burst into Recovery to find the nurse and surgeon trying to stabilise an apparently semi-conscious Cerberus, who was thrashing and growling against the soldiers holding him down.

For a few seconds, West was frozen with the image of her friend acting so savage. She had never seen Cerberus act like this before, asides from when he’d lost control in the mess hall. What _was_ he?

But as the nurse was almost knocked away, West spurred herself into movement. Running over, she began to help the surgeon restrain the thrashing agent while Doc and the nurse prepared a sedative that would be strong enough to calm Cerberus.

“Hold his arm still, West!” Doc already had a needle prepped. She wasn’t sure what they were giving him, but she had faith in Doc and the nurse. Gripping Cerberus’s wrist, the medic managed to pin his arm to the bed, having to lean most of her weight on top of his wrist in order to keep his arm mainly still. Bloody _hell!_ How was he _that_ strong?!

Hands barely shaking, Doc had the nurse further steady the agent’s arm before he found a suitable vein. Pushing the plunger down, he compressed the needle, injecting the sedative. The nurse and Doc then backed off. It wouldn’t take very long for the drug to take effect, and as West watched, she could see the agent slump back to the bed. She stepped back, giving a sigh of relief. That had been… unnerving, to say the least.

“West, are you okay?” Doc deposited the needle in the biohazard container before turning to the other medic. West nodded. The fact that had happened had left her a bit shaken, but she would be okay. Probably. She had _promised _she’d look after her friends. That- she wasn’t-

“How about you, Nurse? Surgeon?” West turned to the other medical personnel, attempting to conceal her sudden panic. Doc nodded, satisfied for the moment as the nurse smiled tightly and the surgeon just sighed, slightly. She raised an eyebrow at Doc before flicking her gaze towards the surgeon.

“What now? Do you want us to watch Cerberus?”

The surgeon nodded. “Yes, that would be greatly appreciated.” The man turned to the nurse, who was placing the sedative back in the drug cabinet. “Nurse, may I have your assistance? Cerberus may have fractured one of my fingers.”

The nurse nodded, and the two wandered over to the edge of the room to deal with the surgeon’s fingers. Doc disappeared with the intention of radioing the Director and informing him of the situation. Meanwhile, West turned her attention towards the docile agent. He had several injuries that needed to be dealt with, it seemed, so the medic gathered some equipment and rubber gloves before beginning her initial assessment of her friend.

Well, the most glaring injury was the massive head wound, just above the agent’s right ear. It was bleeding profusely, resulting in almost half of Cerberus’s face being drenched in dark red blood. The medic sighed. The wound – a puncture, or some sort of laceration, by the looks of it – was a small, deep cut, just above the agent’s right ear. It was quite deep, and when West inspected it, it appeared to go right down to the bone. That would need stitches. Head wounds were notorious for bleeding, due to the large amount of blood vessels near the surface of the skin.

“Zeta, make a note to check for neurological damage as well.”

The AI appeared by the medic’s shoulder, giving a short nod. This was his first serious casualty, and West could feel his caution. She understood that well enough. You could have all the training in the world, but if you couldn’t handle yourself or your patients… it wouldn’t end well.

There also appeared to be a contusion -_bruise, looks to be a day or two old, maybe it didn’t cause the laceration? - _on his right temple, so West supposed the agent had been hit in the head by whatever had caused this. She also supposed that had been what had triggered the violent outburst. It had probably altered Cerberus’s mental state. Head injuries were tricky like that.

West figured that there might be other injuries, but since the head wound was still bleeding sluggishly, she decided to treat that first. She would just apply a temporary dressing for the moment, then Doc or someone else could put sutures in later. With a small bottle of saline, she irrigated the wound before dabbing it gently with a piece of gauze. She then wiped most of the blood away with a few medi-swab patches that were soaked in antiseptic. Pressing a wad of gauze to the agent’s temple, she quickly bandaged his head, making sure to apply a decent amount of pressure. She’d know if she was cutting circulation if his skin began to turn blue.

Once that was done, West began to inspect the rest of the agent, taking her primary survey from the top. West was mumbling to herself as she went, with every so often, telling Zeta to make a note for later. She’d have to do a secondary survey as well to check for other injuries.

“Okay… airway’s clear, no blockage… breathing is…” she paused to feel the agent’s breathing, “Two in ten seconds, that’s good… pulse is slightly fast… 93 beats per minute.” The medic began to check Cerberus’s circulation. “Capillary refill is good, skin colour is normal, but may be a bit pale. Zeta, can you check his blood pressure?”

_>>It is 94 systolic, 60 diastolic.>>_

“Thanks. That’s probably from loss of blood. He must have some other injuries…” Turning to the office, where the surgeon was having his hands strapped, she yelled out to him, “Hey, surgeon! Are we taking spinal precautions?!”

“No!” He called back. West nodded. That was good. It meant that she could roll him herself. Shifting him slightly on the bed, she winced as she saw the red staining the sheets. Cerberus grumbled something incoherent, but she proceeded to roll him into the recovery position on his side. Placing his right hand under his chin and pulling his left arm to hang loosely on the bed, she made sure he could maintain his own airway before walking around the bed to check the agent’s back for injuries.

It was pretty nasty. No wonder the agent had low blood pressure; Cerberus had several deep gouges in his back, narrowly missing the metal prosthesis attached to his spine. The edges of the wounds looked like they’d been _cauterised_. Energy weapons were the only weapons capable of leaving wounds like these. West had seen wounds identical to these in the war.

Oh, she was _certainly_ going to be having a chat to the Director when this was over.

Thankfully, there was only three gouges. The largest one ran vertically from Cerberus’s right shoulder to just above his right hip, with a slightly shorter one mirroring it on the left side of his body. The third ran from about the base of Cerberus’s ribs to the beginning of his tail. These had been done intentionally. 

His under suit had also been shredded in the process, so West got the trauma shears – made of a special material in order to cut through Kevlar - to cut his suit off. She threw it in the biohazard bin before she began to clean the gouges on Cerberus’s back. Using some saline and some gauze, she began to gently clean the wounds, wincing when Cerberus whimpered slightly at the contact.

**“DO NOT TOUCH ME!”**

West jerked back as an unknown voice snapped at her. Just above Cerberus’s head was a glowing red orb, that seemed to almost vibrate… angrily? West could feel Zeta’s confusion trying to process what the orb had said since it had yelled in Sangheili. She shook her initial shock off before she began to bandage Cerberus’s torso, before the orb-AI seemed to almost growl at her.

**“Do not touch me, human! You have no honour and therefore cannot touch me!”**

West growled herself, but she spoke to the AI while she began to bandage her friend. “**I do not care if I have no honour, but I have an obligation and a duty to help my friend since he is injured.”**

**“You are the lowest class! Let this body die honourably; it is the gift my kind gave him.”**

The medic shook her head. “**No.”**

In response to that, the orb began to vibrate and flux angrily, hissing insults at the medic. He could do nothing, however, due to Cerberus being unconscious, which West was slightly grateful for.

It took a little while, interwoven with the occasional pause to take observations, but West managed to bandage Cerberus’s torso up. She wasn’t really worried about bleeding, considering the state of the wounds, but it would help stabilise her friend.

While he was on his side, she decided to take advantage of his position and start her secondary survey; while the bandages obscured most of his back, she couldn’t feel any deformities other than the metal fused to his back. _No spinal trauma, no base of skull fracture. Good. _

Moving to his head, she began to feel through his hair, inspecting her gloves occasionally for blood, making sure to keep an eye on the site of the injury, feeling carefully for any shifting or crepitus. There wasn’t, so it was unlikely that Cerberus had a traumatic skull fracture. _Also good. _

Walking around the side of the bed, she began to inspect his face, moving systematically down his forehead and nose, feeling for any deformities and anything that might indicate additional injury. She couldn’t feel anything odd, and a quick look in his mouth showed a little bit of blood but no loose teeth, and there was no fluid leaking out of his nose or ears.

_Shoulders next. _Feeling across his clavicles, she probed around for anything odd. Everything seemed alright, but it was hard to test some of this without Cerberus’s input- she couldn’t do a CNS survey without Cerberus awake. His chest seemed alright as well, with an even rise and fall of his chest. _No evidence of a flail chest, no paradoxical breathing. That’s a relief. _

His abdomen was also okay on her initial inspection- there was no distention, although there was minor bruising- nothing to indicate internal bleeding, although she made a note to keep an eye on it. Zeta nodded his assent, as he was keeping an eye on his vital signs. If they tanked, something was _probably _wrong. Anyway, there wasn’t any guarding and no obvious abnormalities on palpation. Pressing down firmly on his pelvis, she felt for any fractures, but the bone didn’t budge an inch under her palms, so she gave a sigh of relief.

Next up were the legs and arms- Cerberus had some minor lacerations to the arms, but there were no other abnormalities that she detected, so she was happy for the moment. The sound of footsteps made her look up, giving a short smile at the other health professionals.

From the looks of it, the nurse and surgeon would take over from her, but since he was in a more stable state now, they could afford to take a little more time to prepare their equipment, since it wasn’t usually used for stitching up agents. They needed to inspect his back and the extent of the damage- who knew how far the neural damage extended?

The nurse gave her a strained smile in response, still appearing a tad ruffled. “Agent West Australia, can you help us move Agent Cerberus into the theatre?”

The medic nodded. “Yeah, of course.” Between the four of them, Doc reappearing to help lift their friend, they managed to get Cerberus onto the stretcher. The surgeon disappeared after speaking quickly to the other medical officers, who would go and prepare the theatre.

West also detailed what she’d found, quickly, with the nurse and the surgeon nodding, taking the quick handover and just the whole bloody situation reasonably well. At that point, it was out of her hands. This wasn’t her area of expertise.

She’d just have to trust that her friend would get the care he needed.


	20. Chapter 20

The next few hours were met with a tense silence as Cerberus remained in the theatre. West was pacing worriedly outside while Doc just tried to throw himself into the nurse’s remaining paperwork. They were both worried and concerned about the other agent; given the state that he had been in, it was no wonder.

West had completed her thirty-third pace of the Recovery bay when Zeta appeared in order to calm the anxious medic. She had felt his growing concern in the back of her mind, but she had ignored it in order to think. What _happened_? Cerberus flipped out before disappearing, before he’s brought back, acting absolutely _feral_, covered in a number of plasma burns. Had he been fighting aliens? The injuries he had were incredibly similar to burns and wounds she had seen in the war. She couldn’t think of anything else that it could be.

_>>West, we cannot do anything for Cerberus at this present moment. Please try to relax.>>_

The medic sighed in frustration, pulling her helmet off her head for the seventh time in just as many minutes. “How can I relax, Z? My friend just went nuts!” She paused, coming up short, before she nodded resolutely. “I’m going to go speak to the Director.”

_>>That may not be the best course of action, West. He may be in a volatile mood, considering what just happened. Please, just wait for a few more hours.>>_

“I don’t want to wait, Zeta! He’s going to answer my questions, whether he likes it or not.” She nodded to Doc, who had partially risen from his seat in the office, in response to her raised voice. “I’m going to talk to the Director about this.”

The medic could hear his splutter as she jammed her helmet back on before she stalked out. He wouldn’t follow, as they always needed someone on duty. He wouldn’t break that rule. Heading towards the bridge, she angrily passed by several soldiers coming from the mess hall, who all regarded her warily but moved to the side to let her pass. Walking quickly, it wouldn’t take more than ten minutes to reach the bridge, where the Director usually resided.

When she reached the bridge, the medic was attempting to control her anger, which was sparking through her, sharpening her gaze and her tongue. She knew that it wouldn’t be a good course of action to talk to the infuriating man in such a state, but she was concerned and worried. Cerberus would have scars from what he had been through. And the way he had acted… it wasn’t right. If Cerberus had been sent to fight the Covenant, then she needed to _know. _

_I need to redirect my anger. I’m not going to do anything good if I blow up at the Director. _

She could feel Zeta in the back of her mind, the AI twisting rhythmically against her consciousness to keep her calm, so she decided to focus on him. It helped settle her a little, so she took a breath in before she opened the door. The bridge was illuminated with LED lights, quite harsh against the metal walls. It was filled with blinking, beeping machinery, with several officers sitting at consoles, either going about their business or poised, ready to dictate anything the Director said. West didn’t pay them any mind. The man stood in the middle of the room, surveying the room with a cold eye, the Counsellor standing a metre or so behind him.

They both turned as she stalked in, the Director fixing her with an icy cold glare. West kept her head high. She would not allow this man to intimidate her.

“Agent West Australia, what is the meaning of this?”

The medic scowled, crossing her arms. She had put her helmet on, so she had some sort of barrier between the two of them. Probably trivial, but she took comfort from it as neither could read her facial expressions. “What is going on with Cerberus?”

She had to restrain herself from using profanities, but she did try to place as much anger into her voice. The Director fixed her with a dismissive eye before he turned on his heel towards the massive window at the end of the room. “That is none of your concern, Agent.”

So much for reigning in her anger, which she could feel surge forwards. Oh boy. “None of my concern? Cerberus is my friend! You take him away, gave us no reason, and bring him back like _that!_ He was acting like a fucking animal! If you tell me that it is none of my concern, then I shouldn’t be here! I’m the team’s medic. I need to know what is going on so I can help this program!” West was halfway to shouting at the end, and the outburst left her panting slightly. She composed herself quickly before she drew herself up to her full height. “I have every right, as a member of this team and as their medic, to know what is going on. You can’t deny me that.”

Silence had fell over the room as she spoke, and when she coldly delivered her last words, the beeping of the computers was the only noise in the room. West knew that she was provoking the Director. That she was playing with fire. But she didn’t _care_. Her friend was injured, and the Director was preventing her from being able to help Cerberus. And that made her _mad_.

“Agent, you will return to the Recovery bay, and you will speak no more of this. That is a direct order.” The Director spoke firmly, as if restraining his own anger. He didn’t even look at her.

West was about to protest when Zeta appeared at her shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything for West to know what he was thinking. She needed to leave, or otherwise, she would get into a fight that she wouldn’t be able to win. He was right. “You sent him to fight the Covenant. I’m not an idiot.”

The medic turned on her heel and left, leaving the bridge in silence.

West was still furious as she walked slowly back to Recovery, taking the time to consider her thoughts and calm the fuck down. She couldn’t believe the Director! What nerve that man had! Huffing in frustration, the medic ran a gloved hand through her hair. She’d taken her helmet off, and it now hung absentmindedly by her side.

It didn’t take very long to get back to Recovery, so she gave everyone inside a scare when she slammed the button to the door loudly. Doc was sitting on one of the bunks, trying to get Grif’s hand out of some sort of jar, while Wash, N and Simmons directed various stages of annoyance towards the chubby agent. West scowled as she stalked past her friends. With an irritated huff, she tossed her helmet into the corner before slumping down onto the abandoned bunk, slinging an arm over her eyes. “I fucking _hate_ that man.”

The other agents didn’t need clarification to who she was referring to. She could almost see Wash sigh in apprehension, but she did feel him sit at the end of her bunk. Automatically, and to his slight annoyance, she stuck her legs on top of him, causing her and N to chuckle slightly. “Alright, West, what did you do?”

The medic sighed. It helped, being around her friends. She could feel her frustration and anger beginning to drain away, so she removed her arm to stare at the ceiling. “I wanted to find out what happened to Cerberus. He told me fuck all, so I kinda blew up at him.”

You could almost hear a pin-head drop as the other agents stopped and paused to look at the medic. West turned her head to look at her friends, who had a range of expressions displayed on her faces. N looked slightly sympathetic, Simmons looked flabbergasted while Grif snorted in what, disbelief? Doc wasn’t paying attention to the conversation but Wash just shook his head. “You’re an idiot, West.”

“Yeah, I know. But it just makes me so _mad_! I’m not stupid, which the Director seems to think.” The medic frowned, staring up at the ceiling again.

“What do you mean?” N had folded her arms over her chest, curious.

“The injuries that Cerberus had. They were from energy weapons.” West turned to look at the others. “Like what the Covenant use. I’ve seen plenty of injuries like that from the war.”

Wash paused, thinking. “So, his disappearance from the last few days… they sent him to fight?”

“That’s what I think. Maybe it was a test of some sort. An _experiment._” The last sentence was delivered bitterly, West glaring a hole into the ceiling.

Silence fell over the agents. N frowned, speaking up. “So… what can we do?”

The medic shrugged, scowling. “Nothing. We have no control over this.”

Most of the agents sighed, West included. The depressed atmosphere was broken when the doors to the theatre opened, and the surgeon and nurse wheeled out the unconscious Cerberus. Both West and Wash jumped up, and with N following, they came over to see how their friend was.

He was laying on his back, several broad bandages wrapped around his torso. The under suit on his torso had been removed, but his legs were still covered. While the surgeon wheeled the gurney out with the aid of anti-grav lifts, the nurse pushed along an IV bag that was currently attached to the agent, the needle having been injected into his left arm.

Motioning to West, the surgeon pulled the medic to the side. “We surgically repaired the damage done to his back, but he’ll need to have a full neurological scan afterwards, just so we can be sure there was no lasting damage. Can you monitor him?” The medic nodded, so the surgeon nodded in response, as if pleased. “The general anaesthetic we placed him under should be wearing off soon. His AI was being troublesome. Call us if anything happens.”

The medic nodded. “Thanks.”

Together, the nurse and the surgeon wandered off in order to do their post-op wind down, as West usually called it. She supposed that they would come back later, in order to check on Cerberus. The medic turned back to her friends, who were watching her silently.

“West, can you help me? Grif’s got his hand really stuck in this jar.” Doc called from the other side of the room, sounding vaguely frustrated and very annoyed.

West nodded, walking over to the other medic. Damn, Grif had gotten his hand really stuck. She gave him a sceptical look, while he just spluttered something about his secret stash of Oreos or somethings. N just sighed before explaining that Grif had tried to steal from the kitchen, which wasn’t allowed. Rolling her eyes, West tried to think of something that could act as a lubricant so the other agent could slide his hand out. “Actually, that might work!”

Doc gave her a curious look as she ran over to where the nasopharyngeal airways were kept. Otherwise known as NPA’s, they were used to create an artificial airway for people who couldn’t maintain their own. And… ah-ha! Grinning triumphantly, West pulled out a tube of the lubricant they normally used for the NPA’s. It should do the trick.

Coming back over to Doc and Grif, she tore the plastic stopper of the tube before carefully squirting the lubricant around the Hawaiian’s stuck hand. With a good twist, the opaque jar came right off, to the sigh of relief from Grif. He then shrieked in horror.

“No! You’ve ruined my Oreos!”

Simmons rolled his eyes before he linked his arm around the grieving man’s beginning to slowly drag him towards the exit. He waved slightly at the two medics, saying thanks. “Thanks for dealing with Grif, you guys.”

Doc chuckled, waving his team members out. “Anytime, Simmons.”

The other agents chuckled, before N smiled sheepishly. “I’ve got to go too. Sorry guys!”

“’Bout fucking time! Get your shit together, N.” Lambda appeared suddenly, spurring the purple and silver agent into moving towards the door with a wave of goodbye.

West turned to look at Wash, who just shrugged. “Do you want me to hang around? I’ve got a few hours of free time before dinner. I wasn’t planning on doing anything.”

“Yeah, that’ll be good. Recovery can get a bit boring when it’s quiet.” That made both Doc and her wince. You should _never _say the ‘q’ word when on shift! The random spike of superstition made Z look at her, exasperated while she gave a short laugh. “What can I say, Z? I don’t want to jinx us. Although, I’ve already said the word…” That last part was mumbled off to the side.

Doc laughed before he stood, brushing himself off as he turned to the other agents. “West, can you hold down the fort for a bit? I’ve got something I need to do in the Red’s and Blue’s section.”

The other medic nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll radio you if Cerberus wakes up.” After Doc headed off, she turned to Wash, who had returned to sitting on one of the beds. “What do you want to do?”

The steel grey and yellow agent shrugged. “I don’t know. What is there to do for fun in a med bay?”

“… I can show you how to restrain someone and how to strap them into a stretcher?”

“…fuck it, that’s good enough.”

And that was how West found herself, sitting on the floor of Recovery, laughing her ass off as Wash attempted to get out of a C-collar and a scoop stretcher. She had been showing him how to apply the collar, just in case they ever needed to use one, when West had left him on the ground with a wicked grin. The medic knew just how hard it was to get out of a C-collar when lying down. After a few minutes of Wash attempting to get up – arms flailing wildly - he just resigned himself to lying on the ground while West regained her composure. After she removed the collar, he threw it at her with a warning to never speak of that again, but West could see that he was trying to fight his own smile.

She’d been teaching him some of the more fun and interesting aspects of her equipment, such as using the traction splints (used for femoral fractures), the t-pod, (used for pelvic fractures), and how you could strap someone into a stretcher without them falling out. Wash seemed to know some of the gear, but not as extensively as West did, since she was the medic and the one with proper medical training.

“Ugh…”

West’s head shot up from her position on the floor as a slight groan came from the corner of the room. Scrambling up, she hurried over to find Cerberus blinking and moving his head. Standing a metre or so back, she approached her friend carefully, since she didn’t know how he would react. The medic hated to be acting in such a way, since Cerberus was her friend, but if he was going to possibly attack her or Wash, she needed to be ready. When she was satisfied that he wasn’t going to lash out at the other two agents, West approached the bed carefully. “Cerberus, how do you feel?”

His reaction wasn’t exactly what West was expecting. Whipping his head to look at the medic, the tailed agent pressed himself into the back of the bed, defensively. Hissing - or growling almost - the agent bared his teeth at West, who took a step back while raising her hands. The first thought that flashed through her mind was to make herself look unthreatening. Otherwise, Cerberus could possibly attack her or Wash, considering his reaction. Motioning to Wash, she caused him to stop in his tracks about a metre or two from the end of the bed. He just looked at her worriedly but backed off.

“Cerberus, do you know where you are?” West lowered her hands slowly, trying to speak in a soft tone in order to calm the agent. He just glared at the woman, as if he didn’t recognise his friend. That was worrying. What if the head injury had affected his memory? _He wasn’t orientated to _anything. _That was very, very bad. Shit. _

Considering this, West turned slightly to face Wash. If Cerberus had memory problems, then they’d need some help dealing with him, so she was going to send Wash to fetch the Counsellor or the Director. He wasn’t her most favourite person in the world, but she didn’t know how to deal with Cerberus’s mental state. He wasn’t exactly normal, and she’d been told fuck all about his biology.

She didn’t have a chance to say anything though as she heard a rustling from beside her, accompanied by Wash’s shout of alarm as Cerberus suddenly flung himself from the gurney. Once he hit the floor, he took off running – on all fours – at a speed that left West astounded. Within a few seconds, Cerberus had sprinted from Recovery, disappearing.

“Fuck!”


	21. Chapter 21

“Wash, can you see Cerberus anywhere?!’

“I haven’t seen him, West! I’m moving as quickly as I can.”

The medic growled in frustration as she sprinted down the hallway. After Cerberus had bolted, she and Wash had split up in order to cover more ground. They weren’t sure which way the animalistic agent had ran, so West had taken the right corridor while Wash took the left. They were maintaining constant radio contact, so West could hear Wash’s fast breathing as he sprinted down his own corridor.

They soon ran into trouble, when West ran into a junction in the corridor. She could hear Wash swear over the radio as he reached a similar point. “Fuck!”

“We need to find a better way of searching, Wash!”

The medic heard him exhale in frustration. “I know. Can’t you use Zeta to help?”

_>>I may be able to access on-board cameras. Give me a moment.>>_

A second or two later, West felt Zeta searching the video feeds in her mind. She also felt his triumph as he found what he was looking for; a clip of Cerberus, bolting down the corridor currently to West’s left. She could see the clip playing in her mind, so she took off down the hallway.

“Wash, I’m tracking Cerberus with Zeta. Can you go find the Director?”

“I’m on it.” Wash clicked his radio off, so West just focused on tracking her friend down. While she was sprinting down the hallway near the mess hall, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Stopping abruptly – boots skidding on the metal floor – the medic stopped to investigate, just as Zeta spoke up.

_>>West, I cannot find Cerberus on any of the on-board cameras. He’s disappeared, somehow.>>_

“He didn’t disappear, Zeta!” The medic exhaled, frustrated. “He’s in the vents. Of _course_ he’s in the vents! Bloody hell!” The vents in question had been ripped open by the rogue agent. The grate that normally blocked the opening had been torn off and was now hanging by a single screw.

The medic sighed. This was going to make things a whole lot tougher. Clicking on her radio, she contacted Wash. “Wash, come in.”

There was a slight pause before the radio in her helmet crackled. “West, have you found Cerberus?”

“No. He’s gone into the vents. I’m not going to be able to follow him.”

Wash swore, before he repeated what she had just said. There was then a slight pause as he listened to whoever was speaking to him – the Director, she assumed – before he relayed the message to her. “Okay, the Director’s going to call everyone to the war room. You’ll need to come too.”

West nodded before she turned to head towards the war room. “Make sure you tell him that Cerberus may be potentially dangerous. Something’s wrong with his mind. Understood?”

“Understood. I’ll see you in the war room.”

The Director, the Counsellor and Wash were already in the war room when West arrived. North, York and Carolina arrived a minute after West, while Maine rushed in not too soon after them. The other freelancers arrived quite quickly, with the Reds and Blues in tow.

Once everyone was crammed into the room and around the table, the Director brought up a holographic map of the Mother of Invention. West winced. There was a lot of places Cerberus could have gone. This was going to be difficult.

“Oi, boss. Why are we here? You said it was an emergency.” Church pushed his way to the front, fixing the Director with a deep-set scowl as he moved next to Carolina. The Director scowled in return, before he almost reluctantly handed over the explanation to West.

“Agent West Australia, please explain what has happened.”

The medic nodded, pushing her way to the front. “Cerberus is loose in the air vents. He woke up about twenty minutes ago before he ran away from us, in which Wash and I tried to track him down. Z and I managed to track him to about the mess hall before Z lost sight of him and I found a grate that had been ripped open. We need to find him quickly, since he’s in an altered mental state.”

“If I may, West Australia, why did Cerberus run? How was his mental state altered?” Delta, York’s AI, appeared at the table, shining a soft green light over the faces around the table. The Director began to respond to Delta, but West cut him off, to Zeta’s caution and alarm.

“He was injured. When he was brought in, he had a deep laceration to his right temple and a large bruise in the same spot. I believe that is what caused him to act like this. Otherwise, his AI may have caused him to act like that. The surgeon and nurse had to sedate-“

“Agent West Australia, that is enough!” The Director snapped harshly at the medic, who just glared at her commanding officer. The Counsellor just observed the situation with a cool detachment, but the freelancers and Red and Blues turned their attentions to the man at the head of the table. West caught N’s eye, who gave her a worried look. The Director would not take kindly to this.

“Director, what does she mean?” Carolina crossed her arms while staring at the Director. She’d shared a quick, knowing look with Church, which West observed with interest. That was the sort of wordless communication born of knowing someone for a long time- _wait. _When Carolina had been talking about her and Cerberus, she’d mentioned her father- the medic had assumed that she’d meant the Director, given their familial resemblance. Considering Church’s almost scary resemblance to the man, and the interactions she’d observed between Church and Carolina- were they _siblings?_

Holy shit. She _really _didn’t know what to do with that information.

“It is not your concern-“ The Director began before South decided to cut him off.

“’It is not our concern,’” She scowled at the man while imitating him in an extremely severe southern accent, before she continued on in her normal voice, “Don’t give us that bullshit. Cerberus wasn’t like this before you took him off wherever you took him, and any of us could tell you that since you put that thing in his head, he’s been acting like a total stranger!”

The other freelancers nodded their assent, murmuring amongst themselves. Some of the agents sounded angrier than others, muttering and glaring at the Director. West glanced at Maine, who just stood there silently. She had no idea what was running through his head, but she had no doubt that he would be extremely worried about his friend.

“If I may interject?” The Counsellor stepped forwards, coming to rest his hands on the tabletop. His soft voice silenced the mutterings, but he was met with the same amount of distaste and scowling as the Director had. West wasn’t exaggerating when she said that not everyone was a fan of the manipulative duo. When he wasn’t interrupted, the man continued. “I would suggest that we focus on finding Cerberus, instead of arguing about how he ended up in this way or who caused him to act like this. We need to make sure that he’s safe.”

The grumbles returned from the group but relented when the Director began to speak again. “Agent Cerberus entered the air vents at this point,” He motioned to where West had indicated, “And as we don’t have cameras in the vents, we will need to send agents into the vents in order to find Agent Cerberus. We will also set up agents at the local vents in a widening area, so if we flush him out, we will be able to restrain him. If you see Cerberus, he is NOT to be harmed. Is this understood?”

The agents standing around the table nodded, so the Director continued with his instructions.

About ten minutes later, West found herself crammed into a tiny vent, stuck behind Carolina and stuck in front of Erith, who was complaining vigorously. When they had been chosen to be the ones entering the vents in order to find Cerberus, Erith had protested to no avail. It turned out that she hated entering anything like that, just as much as West did. The medic had just resigned herself to her fate, deciding to focus on finding her friend. Carolina had sighed – worriedly, though she’d never admit that – before nodding in acceptance.

Everyone else had been split into pairs and had been placed around the air vent openings. They were in pairs, so if they were attacked, they would be able to restrain Cerberus. West had stressed the importance of finding Cerberus, as considering his mental state, he could either be a danger to others or himself.

The medic sighed as she wiggled along the metal vent. “Carolina, if you make me do this _ever again, _I will fucking _end_ you.”

Erith grunted in agreement, while Carolina gave a short laugh. “Was that a threat, West?”

“No, it was just an exaggerated response to an undesirable situation- yes, it’s a goddamn threat!” West growled as she collided with Carolina’s behind, causing the cyan agent to give a growl in response. They were in such a small space that when West crashed into Carolina, she brought her head up accidentally, smacking her helmet against the top of the vent. Fuck!

“West! Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry, sorry! Shit, this is such a pain.”

“You’ve got that right. We’re never going to be able to catch Cerberus in here.” Erith grumbled from behind West. West sighed in agreement. This was going to take a while.

Nearly half an hour later, and they were no closer to finding Cerberus than they had been at the start. The three agents in the vents had been forced to split up, so West was crawling down a vent by herself now. At least she didn’t have to worry about crashing into someone’s ass.

They were still maintaining constant radio contact, but from what West could gather, the others weren’t having any luck either. West swore under her breath. Cerberus could be anywhere in the ship by now!

“West, come in, over.” North’s voice came over the radio in her helmet. The medic paused. Had something happened?

“North, what’s the problem? Have you seen Cerberus?”

She could hear the blond sigh over the radio. “No, not yet. Caboose just injured himself, trying to get into one of the vents. Doc took him to recovery, but one of the soldiers just injured himself. Can you come to Recovery? I’m with him now.”

“I’m on my way.” The medic sighed before Zeta popped up at her shoulder.

_>>What do you need, West?>>_

“Where’s the closest exit? I need to get to the med bay.”

_>>Understood. Give me a moment…>>_

The AI paused, checking the map of the ship.

_>>To reach the closest exit… head twenty metres down, turn left, before heading another fifteen metres. It should be on your right.>>_

The medic smiled. “Thanks, Z.”

_>>Will you need any assistance when treating Caboose?>>_

“No, I should be fine. But thank you, Z. I’ll ask if I need anything.”

A few minutes later, she had reached the vent. Kicking it open, she swung herself to the ground as the vent was sitting about a metre and a half up the wall. The sign on the far wall indicated that she was near the training hall, which wasn’t too far from Recovery. Good.

North was standing outside the med bay when West rocked up. He smiled at his friend, nodding to the door. “Doc bandaged his arms, but he said something about disinfectant?”

The medic nodded. “Right, okay. You going to come in?”

The blond waved, shaking his head. “I’ve got to get back to my post. I’m only here because Church was whinging about Caboose being too hyper, even when injured. I’ll never understand how those two get along…”

West laughed. “I’ve stopped questioning it at this point, North. But thanks for bringing him.”

“No problem, West. I’ll see you later.”

“Miss Medic! Doc said you’d come to bandage me up! Like a mummy!” Caboose was squirming and fidgeting on one of the bunks, a wide, joyful smile on his face. West chuckled, shaking her head. That kid got excited about everything.

“Hey, Caboose. How are you feeling?”

“My arms hurt, but I’m feeling better now that you’re here! Will we get to play doctor?”

The medic smiled, shaking her head. “Maybe later, Caboose. I’m just going to bandage your arms up again, okay? Then I’ll give you something to help with the pain. That sound like fun?”

“Yeah!”

Walking over to the supply cabinet, she grabbed a couple of roller bandages, saline tubes, gauze and adhesive dressing. Sitting down on the bed opposite from the blue agent, the man in question presented his arms enthusiastically. Unwrapping the bandages, she inspected the man’s injuries. They weren’t really that severe; just a few, short lacerations along Caboose’s forearms. They didn’t look to be that deep, asides from one laceration running along the outside of his right arm. It looked like he’d almost tried to punch through metal grate of the air vents. Fucking hell, how strong was he?

It didn’t take too long to treat; a quick wash and a few adhesive dressings, and Caboose was all done. She bandaged his arms up, just to be sure. “Thank you, Miss Medic!”

“That’s no problem, Caboose. I’ve just got to make a quick radio call, but I’ll be back in a minute or two, okay?”

“Okay!”

Stepping outside Recovery, West opened a com line to Carolina, who West assumed was still in the vents. The medic figured that she would be the next best person to ask what to do, since West had no intention of asking the Director for instructions. “Carolina, come in, over.”

“This is Carolina, over. What do you need, West? How’s Caboose?”

“Caboose is fine, Carolina. His injuries weren’t too serious, but do you want me to monitor him?”

“Go ahead. Isn’t that your call thought?”

“…Fair point. I’ll make sure he doesn’t injure himself any further. Thanks Carolina.”

“No problem, West. Carolina, out.”

Back inside the med bay, West found Caboose beaming at her, still sitting in the same spot he had been before. She supposed that was good; she had heard plenty of stories from the other agents about how quickly Caboose could get distracted and how quickly he could wander off. She was honestly surprised that he was still _in_ the med bay.

“Miss Medic, how was your call? Was the scary lady in a good mood?”

West smiled, slightly. “Yeah, she seemed alright. How are you, Caboose? How did you do this to yourself?”

The blue agent rocked back and forth on the bed, seemingly trying to remember. West wasn’t exactly sure, since it was always a bit hard to tell with Caboose. “Well, I thought I saw Cerberus playing in the vents. I wanted to play too, so I tried to get into the vents, but I ended up giving myself a boo-boo. Church was really mad…”

“I’m sure Church was just worried, Caboose. And, I’m sure we’ll find…” The medic trailed off, just as she noticed Caboose chewing on something that seemed to be leaving crumbs all over the bed and Recovery floor. “Caboose, what are you eating?”

“Cookies!”

“And where did you _get_ those cookies?”

“Cerberus gave them to me! I think N made them… do you want one, Miss Medic?”

West had to pause for a few seconds for that information to register. “Wait. Cerberus gave you those cookies?”

“Yep!”

“He was here.”

“Yep!”

“In Recovery.”

“Yep!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Caboose pulled a face as West jumped up. “That’s a bad word, Miss Medic.”

West waved half-heartedly, while she ran to the door in order to make another call. “Sorry Caboose! I need a few more minutes. I’ll be back in a sec!”


	22. Chapter 22

“And you’re sure, _that’s_ what Caboose said?” Carolina lent on her hip, giving the medic a sceptical look. The medic sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“Yes, that’s what Caboose said! I heard him very clearly, and I don’t know how Caboose got a hold of N’s cookies from within the med bay. I don’t usually keep food in Recovery or my own med bay.”

The cyan agent sighed. “Okay, but how does that help us? At least we know he’s in the area…”

The medic frowned, thinking. Currently, she, Carolina, and a few other agents were standing in Recovery, trying to figure out how to use this information to catch Cerberus. Caboose was still munching happily on his supply of cookies, which seemed to never deplete. She wasn’t entirely sure why they were still letting Caboose eat the cookies, since he already seemed hyperactive as it was, but she supposed they were a bit distracted at the moment.

“Why don’t we set a trap?” Erith spoke up from her position, where she was leaning against the Recovery door. West raised an eyebrow at that, while the other agents glanced at each other.

“A trap? How would we do that?” West crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. Setting a trap might be the best possible option given the situation, since they didn’t have the speed or agility to be able to catch the currently rogue agent in the air vents.

The teal and orange agent shrugged. “I dunno. You could try trap him in here, since there aren’t too many ways to escape. Block the air vents once Cerberus arrives, lock the doors… you should be able to restrain him.”

Wash frowned. “How would we lure him?”

Silence fell around the room, before it was broken by the sound of Caboose eating his cookies. West was tempted to face palm herself. Of course!

It seemed that Wash, Erith and Carolina had the same idea, as they all shared a single knowing glance, before Erith stood up straight, calling over her shoulder as she walked out the door;

“I’ll go get Donut and N!”

A few minutes later, N and Donut arrived back with Erith, both looking extremely happy for some reason. West gave N a confused look as the purple and silver agent grinned excitedly. “You okay, N?”

The agent grinned, sharing an elated look with Donut, who returned it with an excited grin. “We get to bake!”

“…Yes? That’s exciting?”

Donut smiled and flicked his hand at West. “Of _course_ it is, silly! You really need to try it sometime, West, it’s a great stress reliever. Oh! Maybe after we find Cerberus, N can teach you how to cook!”

N chuckled, glancing at her lightish-red friend. “Our calling has come.”

At that point, Lambda decided to pop up, giving her agent a deadpan look. “It’s just baking, N. Just shut up and go make the damned cookies. Jesus Christ.”

Erith snorted while N began to apologise for her AI’s behaviour. “So, how are we going to do this?”

Carolina frowned. “West knows this med bay best. Any ideas on how to trap Cerberus?”

The medic tapped her bottom lip, thinking. “Well, I can get Z to block the door, so he won’t be able to open it, and if we block the main air vents, we should be able to stop him from getting back into the vents.”

Wash crossed his arms. “But how will we be able to block the vents?”

West glanced at the gurney at the side of the room. “Well, we can always use the beds and gurneys to create a temporary blockage.”

Carolina fixed West with a sharp gaze. “But how will that do any good? Cerberus will just rip through the blockage like nothing. You saw how easily he got into the ventilation system.”

West paused, before she went over to the medicine cabinet. Pulling out a small bottle, she held it up in front of her friends. “I only need a few seconds. This should be able to knock Cerberus out easily.”

Wash frowned at the medic. “Chloroform? How is that even on the ship?”

The medic shrugged. “I found it while cleaning. It should do the trick. It’s in date, don’t worry.”

“But chloroform hasn’t been used in medicine for at least three centuries.” Carolina gave West a rather sceptical look. West decided to let Z answer that statement.

_>>Agent Carolina, most of the sedatives or anaesthesia we have in Recovery requires an intravenous administration. Chloroform will not be harmful to Cerberus unless he is exposed for an extended period of time. While we would not normally do this, the chloroform will allow us to restrain him.>>_

“Have you been trained _how _to use chloroform, West?” Erith raised an eyebrow at the medic.

The medic nodded. “I’ve been taught about it and how it was administered when it was used in medicine as a general anaesthetic. I’ve never used it myself, but it shouldn’t be very hard.”

Looking around the room, West saw the others slowly relent. It wasn’t much like they had much choice. Carolina sighed, but nodded resolutely. She turned to face N and Donut, who were currently lingering near the doorway. “Okay, can you guys go make those cookies?”

Donut grinned while N saluted the cyan agent. “We’re on it, boss!”

Just as they were leaving, you could hear N ask Donut what type they should make, to the chuckles and head shakes of everyone in Recovery. Carolina turned back to West, Wash and Erith. “Alright. Let’s start to block the exits. Hopefully those two won’t take very long.”

West and Wash nodded while Erith snorted. “Knowing those two, it might take either thirty minutes to three hours. Depends on how distracted they get.”

About forty minutes later, the four agents had finished setting up their temporary blockade. Since there were only four air vents in Recovery, they had blocked three of the four, so that Cerberus had one to enter through. If he did come to get the cookies, Erith and Wash would block the last vent while Carolina would help West sedate Cerberus. They weren’t entirely sure how Cerberus would react, so they were just going to expect a fight. That’s why Carolina was going to help West.

Everything was set up. They were just waiting on the bait.

“The cookies have arrived!” N announced with a flourish as she and Donut burst through the door, arms filled with carefully wrapped bags of what appeared to be chocolate chip cookies.

“By the gods, how many did you make?!” West just stared at the mountain of cookies as Donut and N placed their creations carefully on the floor. Donut grinned at the medic.

“I’m not really sure… about three hundred or so?”

West could see Erith and Wash just face palm in the corner of the room. Lambda decided to pop up at that point to offer her input. “The cook might kill you guys in the morning, by the way. These two idiots decided to use up nearly all the baking supplies in the kitchen. Have fun cleaning that shit up!”

Most of the agents just rolled their eyes at the tiny pink AI, who disappeared back inside N’s storage unit with a short laugh. Carolina just snorted, before stepping outside. “I’m just going to let everyone know what we’re doing. Give me a few minutes.”

As she stepped out the door, West turned to the other agents. “You guys better hide. Erith, you should probably hide in the office, since your armour is the brightest colour. N, you can probably hide underneath one of the beds, Wash can hide in the storage cabinet and Donut can hide with Erith. I’ll hide in the surgery-“ The medic broke off as Carolina re-entered the room. “It’s all good?”

The other redhead nodded. “Everyone’s going to steer clear of this area until we give the all clear. Where do you want me to hide, West?”

“You can hide with me in the surgery waiting room. N, are the cookies ready?”

The purple and silver agent nodded, having placed most of the bags in the absolute centre of the room. They had left the one remaining vent slightly unhinged. Hopefully Cerberus wouldn’t realise that this was a trap, but West didn’t think that’d be his main concern, given his mental state.

With a nod, everyone crept into position. West and Carolina both headed over to the surgery waiting room, while N crammed herself underneath a bed. The medic couldn’t see anyone else from where she was.

Everything was quiet for a while, before the slight creak of something being undone echoed throughout the room. From her position, West couldn’t see much, asides from N and the cookies, but after a moment, she could see Cerberus creep into view.

He was glancing around, attentively, before he scampered over to begin eating the cookies. West locked eyes with N, who nodded before sliding out silently. Unfortunately, that still alerted Cerberus to their presence, who snarled at the purple agent. West took that as her cue to burst out of her own hiding place, causing Cerberus to whip around in confusion to confront the medic.

“Carolina, restrain him!” West yelled as Cerberus lunged at her, throwing herself to the side to avoid the attack. Since most of the beds had been shifted to the sides, there was a lot more room to move about in. West came up on her feet before jumping back to avoid the rogue agent’s swing. Carolina burst out of the surgery doors, just as Cerberus was turning to face West, wrapping her arms around Cerberus’s torso in a massive bear hug.

The other agent bucked wildly in Carolina’s arms, and to get a better grip without hurting Cerberus, she wrapped her legs around his waist, their combined weight forcing the two to the ground. West could see N and Erith blocking the air vent from the corner of her eye, so she focused on knocking Cerberus out.

Pulling the bottle of chloroform out, West yelled in panic as Cerberus crashed into the medic, having shaken off Carolina’s restraint. The impact was forceful enough that she ended up dropping the small bottle, which shattered on the ground. Shit.

“West, what’s keeping you?!” Wash yelled from the other end of the room. West jumped and scrambled back, just as Carolina tacked Cerberus to the ground, again. The medic sprinted over to the drug cabinet, where she ripped the door open, ignoring the flimsy lock. She scanned the drug labels quickly, looking for a sedative that would work quickly.

“Sedatives, sedatives… ah, lorazepam! That’ll do.” Pulling out the tiny, white bottle, the medic scrambled for a hypodermic needle. She didn’t have enough time to properly measure the correct quantity, so she’d have to do it by eye. Certain sedatives depended on how heavy the patient was, and West didn’t want to OD Cerberus. Drawing out some of the lorazepam, she yelled out to Carolina and Wash, who had run over to help his friend; “Keep Cerberus still!”

Carolina yelled in confirmation, Cerberus thrashing underneath her. West ran and slid over to the scuffling agents, and with Wash’s help, managed to find a suitable vein. It took nearly two and a half minutes, but Cerberus finally relaxed and went limp underneath Carolina and Wash, who both released the tailed agent. West scrambled up before she dove for one of the anti-grav gurneys. Pulling it over, she lined it up against Cerberus.

“Carolina, get him on the gurney! I need to go get a respirator, now.” She waved her hand as she ran over to the theatre. “I’ll explain later!”

Carolina frowned, and with a look at Wash, began to lift the agent onto the gurney. West shouldered her way into the theatre, where she immediately headed over to an automatic respirator that was normally used for surgery. She flicked it on, and after she gave it a quick once-over, poked her head outside to check on the other agents.

“Carolina, bring him in here. We need to hook Cerberus up to the respirator.” While the cyan agent brought Cerberus over to the beeping machine, West spoke absentmindedly, in a way both to Carolina and herself. “Lorazepam can act as a respiratory depressant. It would be unlikely to do any serious damage to Cerberus, but I don’t want anything serious to happen.”

“What if something bad does happen?” Wash frowned, worried, as he watched West attach the respirator to Cerberus’s face. West exhaled, doing a quick set of vitals.

“Well, it’s actually quite hard to cause an overdose in a patient as healthy as Cerberus, but we can give him flumazenil if it gets bad.”

“Fluma- flumaz-“ Wash attempted to pronounce the name of the drug, causing West to chuckle slightly as she began to tie Cerberus to the bed.

“Flumazenil, Wash. It’s used as an antagonist to benzodiazepine type sedatives.”

Carolina just shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask you to explain.”

West smiled, tightly, before she nodded and stepped back, having finished strapping Cerberus into the respirator. She’d also tied him to the gurney, just in case he tried to escape again, or somehow managed to wake up sooner than expected. Given how much she’d drugged him with, it’d take a few hours at _least_ for the sandy-haired agent to come around. “Well, it pretty much reverses the effects of the lorazepam, but it’s a bit hard to understand if you aren’t used to working with the drugs.”

The medic heard Carolina sigh, before she turned to look at the other redhead. They shared a worried, knowing look, before her face hardened. “I’ve got to go radio the Director. He’ll want to know that we’ve caught Cerberus.”

West nodded. “Tell him that we had to sedate him and that we had to put him on a respirator. I’ll debrief the Director’s people when they get here.”

“Understood.”

“What do you want me to do, West?” Wash had crossed his arms over his chest and was watching the medic carefully, attentively. West exhaled, slowly. She was too tired for this shit.

“You can help Erith, N and Donut clean up the med bay, I guess. I’ve got to monitor Cerberus. Oh, could you let Doc know that I had to sedate Cerberus with lorazepam? Can you remember that?”

The blond agent nodded, giving his friend a tight smile. He made his way over to the theatre door before he paused, turning back to the woman. “It’ll be okay, West.”

West watched him go, running a hand through her hair. She really didn’t know what would happen to Cerberus, or even if he would recover. She’d never been in a situation like this before.

And that scared her. It really did.


	23. Chapter 23

“West!”

The medic lifted her head as someone called her name from Recovery’s entrance. It had been a few days since they had managed to recapture Cerberus, and the Director’s men had whisked him away in their usual fashion, much to the annoyance and suspicion of everyone. Everything had begun to return to normal, but it was clear that the agents were worried about their friend. It wasn’t normal, how Cerberus had been acting. And it frustrated West – and by extension, Zeta – that they couldn’t do anything to help their friend. It wasn’t their area of expertise. Physical injuries, she was good at dealing with, but mental issues relating to _alien AI_? She was out of her depth. 

But at that moment, Simmons was standing at Recovery’s door, looking both distressed and exhausted, as if he had just run from one end of the ship to the other.

“Simmons, are you okay?”

The pale man panted, resting his arm of the door-frame before he pulled himself up to his full height, managing to wheeze out the words; “Morphine overdose!”

_Oh, shit. _West paused, letting the words register, before she groaned and stood up. She figured that they’d be seeing some drug overdoses sooner or later, considering that they hadn’t recovered the missing drugs that had disappeared a few weeks ago. With a sigh, she grabbed the key to the med cabinet. West could hear Simmons waiting at the door, impatiently, as he kept tapping his foot rapidly against the tarmac floor. “West, what are you doing?! Doc said it was urgent! Hurry up!”

Rolling her eyes, the medic began to rifle through the drug cabinet before she found the small vial she was looking for, in which she grabbed it, along with a small hypodermic needle. She then grabbed a scoop stretcher and her first aid kit before she quickly hurried after Simmons, who bolted in the direction that he had come from. From what West could gather, they were heading towards the residential area of the ship, where most of the ship’s personnel lived.

To be honest, that wasn’t very surprising, but she suppressed a sigh. She really didn’t feel like dealing with a drug overdose at that point in time. She really didn’t feel like doing much of anything, really. Zeta had suggested that it was probably worry about Cerberus that was making her feel so flat and worn down, and she figured that he was right.

But it wasn’t the time to think about that. She had a patient to deal with.

A minute later, Simmons had led the medic to the women’s showers, which had several soldiers – both men and women – milling about, trying to find out what was wrong. Most of them parted once West began to shoulder past them, muttering and whispering amongst themselves. At that point, West found why most of the soldiers were outside.

Tex was stubbornly guarding the door, arms crossing, dressed in full black. She was giving the crowd a nasty scowl, which made West laugh slightly. No-one in their right mind would mess with Tex, not when she looked like she would stab you with a knife if you said something she didn’t like. Doc must’ve asked the blond agent for her help. However, the medic seemed to be on decent terms with the other agent, who nodded towards the door once West stepped into view. Tex gave her a short smile, to which West returned with a brief nod.

Thankfully, most of the other soldiers seemed to have been removed from the showers, giving West and the others in the room some semblance of privacy. That was understandable, as the woman they were treating was half naked, lying collapsed in one of the shower cubicles. The door to the cubicle looked like it had been broken open - or at least the lock had, as it was lying discarded on the ground, a few metres away. West wouldn’t have been surprised if Tex had lent her assistance in getting the door, given the strength of the woman.

Doc was kneeling next to the woman, who had been rolled onto her side, and was taking a set of vital signs. A C-cylinder of oxygen was sitting in Doc’s first aid kit, the oxygen tubing snaking around his leg, where it was attached to a non-rebreather mask which had been strapped to the woman’s face. _Bugger. Her oxygen must be low. _He looked both worried and frustrated but sighed in relief as West lent down to kneel next to him, splashing water up onto her shins. _Ugh_. She hated getting wet.

“West, I think this woman’s had a morphine overdose. We need to get her to Recovery, fast.” Scribbling down the woman’s systolic blood pressure, he winced. “Hypotension. Blood pressure’s 85 on 50.”

West nodded, moving to align the scoop stretcher next to the woman, who appeared to be mostly unconscious. “Have you done a Glasgow coma scale?”

“No, I figured she was time critical. She’s not responding to voice or pain.”

“Breathing?”

“One breath in ten seconds. I put her on the oxygen just before you got here.”

“Pulse is low, I’m guessing.”

“Yes. It’s at 53 now. It’s dropping. It was 61 when I first got here.”

West swore but nodded. That was a common symptom of opioid overdoses- known as a toxidrome or the opioid triad, bradycardia, bradypnea and hypotension were all things they used to determine the drug that caused the overdose. _Low heart rate, low respiration rate and low blood pressure._ “Doc, I brought some naloxone, but are you sure it was a morphine overdose?”

“Yeah, the vial’s over there.”

“Yeah, that’ll help." With a snort and shake of her head, she started to get the stuff ready. "Okay, I’ll administer it now. One milligram to start. If that doesn’t help, I’ll give her another dose.”

“Understood.”

With a nod from Doc, Simmons ran over, where the two of them began to manoeuvre the unconscious woman into the scoop stretcher. West pulled out the small vial she had fetched from the Recovery bay earlier; naloxone was a commonly used antagonist to opioids like morphine or oxycodone, both of which had been stolen from the med bays. West just thanked her lucky stars that she had managed to find some in Recovery. It would make dealing with this a lot easier. Drawing out some of the clear fluid, she measured one milligram of the drug before she secured a vein with the help of Doc. It would take a minute, at least, for the naloxone to begin to take effect.

With the help of Doc and Simmons, the three agents managed to get the woman onto the scoop stretcher, where West tucked a discarded towel around her exposed chest in order to protect some of the woman’s modesty. Right- now that that was done, West poked her head outside, quickly, in order to get Tex’s help. They would need at least four people to move the scoop stretcher, and the blond agent nodded quickly before she moved into position.

Doc was taking the lead in this lift, and on his count of three, the four of them lifted the woman. Thankfully, she remained firmly attached to the stretcher. She was fairly thin, and West had problems in the past with thinner than normal patients shifting around too much or even falling out of the restraints. It wasn’t a good image, if West was honest.

With the help of Tex, Simmons and Doc, the four of them managed to get the unconscious woman back to Recovery with minimal drama. Once they managed to place the woman on one of the gurneys, the nurse hurried over to see what was happening.

“Are you four alright?”

Simmons and Tex backed off, while West looked at Doc. The purple medic nodded, turning to explain the situation to the nurse while West went to go fetch an automatic blood pressure cuff and some other monitoring gear. West had to fetch the respirator from the theatre, where she came back to find Doc and the nurse doing a set of vitals on the unconscious woman. Doc lifted his head to look at the other medic, before he nodded towards the intimidating agent who was leaning against the doorframe.

“West, can you do something for me? I need you to go with Tex to see if you can recover anymore of the missing medication. If this woman was… shooting up in the bathroom, others might have been doing the same.”

West nodded. “I’m on it.”

Tex raised an eyebrow at the purple medic, who had turned his attention back to the unconscious woman. “Why do I need to go?”

The redhead sighed. “I can answer that one, Tex. If someone else’s overdosed, they may have an altered mental state. Hypoxia to the brain can result in aggression- as well as other things.”

“So, I’m a bodyguard?”

“Yeah.”

The blond agent shrugged, giving a short smile. “Right, let’s go then.”

“So, West, what are we looking for, exactly?”

The medic sighed as she knelt in the water that had pooled around her feet in the showers. Ugh, she’d have to clean her armour later. _Great_. Currently, the two agents were back in the showers, where West was having a thorough search through the abandoned room. They’d been here for nearly twenty minutes now, and West could tell that Tex was getting bored. She was as well, if she had to admit.

Besides, there wasn't many places for things to be hidden, unless you included the lockers, which were separated from the showers by a metal wall and floors that always became treacherous when wet. West had seen a few ankle and foot injuries caused by people slipping on the icy floors. It was a bad problem, and one that wasn’t going to be fixed any time soon. The showers took up most of the divided room, with six showers facing each other on the other side of the locker room. They also had several metal benches and hooks, allowing people to sit and wait for their showers. On the other side of the room were the lockers, where most of the soldiers kept their gear. The freelancers had their own showers and locker rooms, which West was immensely grateful for. Sometimes, she didn't like sharing.

West shifted her weight back onto her knees to look at the blonde agent, who was staring at her from the other end of the room. They’d been met with a bit of resistance when West had told the soldiers in the showers to get out, but once they saw Tex standing and scowling behind the medic, they quickly cleared out. Tex really didn’t have the best reputation on the Mother of Invention. She was pretty scary at times and seemed to enjoy using her reputation to her advantage.

“Well, any of the missing drugs. If that woman brought her morphine here to get high, then others might have as well. Or, she might’ve left some clue to who supplied the drugs. We need to track these drugs down before someone else overdoses and kills themselves.”

The blond woman sighed, before nodding. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything in here, though. We’ve already searched it from top to bottom.”

West huffed, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” The two agents had searched the whole room with a fierce eye, but nothing relevant had popped up. They’d even gone through the soldiers’ lockers on the right-hand side of the room! The medic sighed in frustration before she stood up, using the metal bench to prop herself up. “We can’t really do much else, except go back to Recovery.”

“Shouldn’t we check that woman’s room first?” Tex raised an eyebrow, standing up herself.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t have her name….” The medic trailed off, thinking, “Hey Zeta, can you do something for me?”

The small, red and black AI appeared at West’s shoulder, almost stifling a yawn. West smiled. Some of her more human actions had been rubbing off on the AI, and now Z seemed to do certain actions – like yawning or running his hand through his hair when frustrated – subconsciously. It was kind of cute, if she was honest, which seemed to annoy him whenever she brought it up.

_>>West, what can I do for you?>>_

“Z, can you find the name and room of the woman that we brought to Recovery? Are you able to do that?”

The AI, paused, thinking. West could feel his thought process in the back of her mind, so she felt it a moment later when he nodded.

_>>If you give me a moment, I can locate her personnel file on the main database.>>_

West smiled. “Thanks, Z.”

Tex chuckled, crossing her arms while she watched the two interact. “Handy.”

It took less than a minute for Zeta to locate the woman’s file, which included her room, which she apparently shared with three other women. West held back a sigh of resignation. This was going to take up the whole afternoon, wasn’t it?

About twenty minutes later, West found herself with Tex outside of the woman’s dorm. Much to their annoyance, the door was locked. The two women had waited for about five minutes considering how to get in, since the door was locked with what appeared to be a tumbler lock. They’d probably need a key to get in, unless they could think of another method to open the door.

West just rolled her eyes before sighing in annoyance, which was mirrored by the blond agent standing next to her. She needed a bobby pin. “Tex, do you have a bobby pin?”

She was rewarded with a small, brown bobby pin and a raised eyebrow. Tex mainly just shook her head, giving a short laugh. “You planning on breaking in? Should’ve asked York for his help.”

The medic laughed, bending the bobby pin in half. She’d taught herself how to pick simple locks a fair few years ago, before she got caught up in fighting in the war. When she’d been studying to become a paramedic, she’d lived in an apartment with a friend who had a horrible tendency to take West’s spare keys because she’d always lose her own. Rather than buy new spare keys, West ended up teaching herself how to lock pick, mainly as a result of being broke and lazy. Hey, she was a student! It _had_ come in handy, from time to time. It wasn’t the worst skill in the world to have.

In less than a minute, the medic had managed to open the door with minimal effort. The door creaked open loudly, revealing an unbelievably messy room, mainly as a result of having dirty clothes strewn everywhere. It didn’t smell the best either, causing West to wrinkle her nose up in disgust. She’d been in plenty of disgusting situations, but she’d been a soldier for far too long, and preferred her sleeping area clean. It seemed Tex shared the same sentiments, as West caught her pulling a repulsed face as she kicked a pair of dirty knickers on the ground with her boot.

It wasn’t the biggest room in the world and consisted of two bunks pushed up against opposite walls with four footlockers shoved under the beds, with a lonely cabinet sitting in the corner, cluttered with a fair amount of junk. It was at times like this that West was glad that she was a freelancer and not a soldier like the women in this room. At least she didn’t have to share her living space with others. She’d had enough of that in the past.

Asides from that, it seemed like there could be plenty of places for her medications to hide. And, since this was a shared space, there was a high possibility that some of the other women in the room could’ve encountered the drugs. West looked up to share a glance with Tex, who nodded.

“Let’s get to work.”


	24. Chapter 24

West frowned, before she ran a hand through her hair. She really couldn’t help it; it seemed to be a reflex of some sort, like someone sticking their tongue out when concentrating. Then she sighed.

She had no idea where to begin!

She had to say, the room was so messy that she didn’t know where to even _begin_ looking for the missing medications. Ugh. Tex looked at the medic from the corner of her eye before she chuckled and patted the medic on the back. “You can take the left; I’ll take the right? Sound good?”

West smiled sheepishly before she moved towards the set of bunk beds on the left. “Give a yell if you see anything suspicious. Morphine and ketamine are usually found as liquids, but oxycodone be found as a liquid or tablets. The morphine that lady had still had the labels on, but they might’ve removed the labels for the other drugs.”

“Got it.”

Moving over to the left, West began to inspect the messy bunk beds. She was going to give them a quick once-over, just in case something happened to have been left out in the open. The medic doubted that illicit medications would be left carelessly out in the open, but then again, a woman had just overdosed in a public shower. It didn’t really scream ‘being careful’ to the redhead.

Raking the beds over with a critical eye, the medic shook her head. Nothing. But, if she was honest, the bed was too messy to really know if anything was truly out of place. Well, okay. If that was the case, she’d touch down the bottom bed first. Taking all the discarded clothing off the bed, she dumped the singlets and shorts on the ground unceremoniously before she began to run her fingers over the mattress, feeling for anything unusual. It was like checking a casualty during a secondary survey. West shook her head and chuckled. Of course, she’d link this back to medicine.

And initial inspection of the first mattress revealed no hidden secrets. Alright. Dropping to the ground, West grunted slightly as she pulled out the two footlockers that had been crammed underneath the bed. The medic poked her head underneath the bed’s metal frame, figuring that she’d check if anything had been taped or hidden in the metal frame of the bed. Annoyingly, the bed was just low enough to allow her head to fit underneath, but nothing else. Her armour was too wide to fit, but she managed to wedge her shoulder’s flashlight underneath the frame, allowing the medic to illuminate the shadowed area.

From what she could see, there was nothing hidden, but she attempted to run her fingers in any areas that were still obscured in shadow, just to make sure that she wasn’t missing anything. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had found a small, metal key, that the medic assumed was for the footlockers. The medic had a habit of being meticulous. In her occupation, if she wasn’t extremely thorough, people could die, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. 

No, still nothing. With a sigh, West pulled her head out from under the bed. Well, she would check underneath the mattress now, just in case anything had been hidden underneath. Hefting the thin mattress up, she lent the slightly stained bed against the wall, before she began to check for any hidden items. No, nothing here either.

West grumbled in frustration. She knew that she needed to be patient, but having to go over every single, little detail, just in case it concealed some of her stolen medication was a bit grating. She guessed it couldn’t be helped, but it was still aggravating.

After going over the lower bed and its metal frame, and being satisfied that there was nothing hidden, West turned her attention to the footlockers in front of her. They did appear to be locked, but the key that the medic had found was a perfect fit, clicking the faded, light-green lid of the container open. Everything seemed to be in almost perfect order, a stark contrast to the mess of the room around the medic. The footlocker mainly just contained clothes, neatly folded. A quick, careful search revealed nothing out of the ordinary, and satisfied with her search, the medic closed the lid.

Annoyingly, but not unexpectedly, the same key did not open the second footlocker. Less annoyingly, however, was the fact that the owner of the second footlocker apparently copied her roommate in terms of hiding her keys, and the respective key was hidden underneath the metal frame of her bed.

“Tex, I think the keys for your footlockers will be underneath the metal frames of the beds.” The medic turned her head slightly towards the other agent, who was checking the mattresses of the other bunks. The blonde agent grunted in response, clearly focused on her own search.

Shaking her head with a slight smile, the medic turned her own attentions back to the second footlocker, opening the lid with an audible click. The lid creaked loudly when she opened it, revealing much of the same; clothes and personal items. The medic scowled slightly, but began to search through the green footlocker, rifling through the pile of folded clothes first.

A slight crinkle of plastic caught her attention, causing the medic to frown. She had just shifted a white, regulation shirt, when she had heard the noise. West picked up the white shirt carefully, cautiously. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had found, but as she pulled the small, plastic bag out of the shirt, she knew it was nothing good.

West wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at. She was holding a small, plastic package, with several small, translucent crystals nestled at the bottom.

Well, she wasn’t being entirely honest. The medic had a fairly good idea of what she was holding, but there was no way of determining anything specific until she could have the crystals analysed. The redhead sighed. Recovery wasn’t equipped for dealing with illegally made drugs. Overdosing on medication was one thing but overdosing on illicit drugs was a whole other ballpark.

With a sigh, West turned to the armoured agent next to her. “Tex. I found something.”

The blonde’s attention was on the medic almost instantly, peering at the woman curiously. “What did you find, West?”

The redhead frowned, forehead creasing. “I think…” The woman paused, and if anything, her frown deepened. “Well, I reckon someone else on the ship made this. I don’t think it’s from any of the med bays.”

“Are you sure?”

The medic nodded. “I’ll have to double check with Doc, but I’m pretty certain. We should finish up searching. I need to get this back to Recovery.”

Tex smiled slightly, tossing her head towards the closed door. “I can finish up here, if you want. You can get those tested and I’ll radio you if I find anything else.”

West nodded, sighing. This was not going to end well, if someone was making drugs on board the ship. She grinned slightly at the blonde. “Thanks Tex. I really appreciate your help.”

“No problem, West.”

Exiting the woman’s room, West tucked the small package into a compartment located on the right leg of her armour. At least, it could stay there until she could get the mystery drugs someplace safe.

_>>West, I don’t understand. What is ‘ice’?>>_

The medic blinked. She’d almost forgotten that Zeta could see her predominant thoughts, especially if they were occupying most of her mind. West chuckled as she made her way back to Recovery. She’d gotten so used to the AI’s presence that she hardly noticed it when the red and black AI began trawling through her thoughts. Interesting.

“Z, ice is a colloquial term for crystal methamphetamines, because it looks like, well, ice.”

_>>You’ve had experience with ‘ice’ before, haven’t you? You recognised it.>>_

It was a statement, not a question. West laughed drily, touching the back of her head absentmindedly. She did have a fair amount of experience with the drug. Not from use, mind you, but her home city was notorious for the abuse of the drug. The medic had grown up amongst reports of meth fuelled violence and crimes that were surprisingly commonplace. It didn’t help that a friend of hers worked at one of the major hospitals as an ED nurse, and as result, had plenty of stories of aggravated patients that were high on meth or other drugs.

“Yeah, it was a pretty common drug back home. We saw a lot of meth related accidents when I was on-road.” The medic sighed. Those cases were never, ever fun.

_>>On-road?>>_

“Yeah. When I was doing my paramedic course, you would go out on calls. I guess ‘on-road’ is just slang for ‘out in the ambulance.’”

_ >>Was it… fun?>> _

West cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, I guess it was. But let me tell you, you can’t change stupid. And humans are _always_ stupid. That never, ever changes.”

_>>Like when Grif got his hand stuck in the cookie jar?>>_

“…Yeah, pretty much.” After a pause, the medic laughed, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll tell you a few stories once we get this whole mess sorted out. I’ve seen some stupid injuries.”

_>>Such as?>>_

The medic snorted, sidestepping in the corridor to avoid several soldiers who saluted quickly before hurrying on their way. “Well, I once treated a lady who would give her son Ventolin when he was having trouble breathing – induced by exercise – and who had never gotten him tested for asthma.”

The disbelief was almost tangible as Zeta paused to process that.

_>>They gave him Ventolin, but he didn’t have asthma?>>_

“Well, his mum never got him tested. He wasn’t even having trouble breathing when his parents brought him in!”

_>>…Really?>>_

The medic just shook her head, laughing slightly at her AI’s incapability to understand her past casualty’s actions. “People will always be stupid. Although, when I usually tell that story, people give me strange looks…”

Zeta’s hologram just shook his head, just as West reached the door to Recovery.

_>>Humans are so strange…>>_

The medic snorted. “I know, Z, I know.”

Striding into Recovery, the medic acquired a few odd looks from Doc and the other casualties in the room, probably because Z had disappeared, and she was apparently talking to herself. Apparently, Lambda pulled the same trick with N, but had more of an aim of making the brunette look stupid rather than the AI being shy or retreating in order to think.

The OD casualty was still in the same position as she had been since West had left with Tex and had been hooked up to the respirator in order to maintain her breathing. A curtain had been drawn partially across her gurney, and from what the medic could see, the Nurse was monitoring the soldier’s vitals, just in case they did a nose dive.

All seemed to be well though, as the surgeon was nowhere to be seen and Doc was providing aid to a few soldiers and what appeared to be a kitchen worker with several lacerations on her palm.

Nodding to Doc, the medic headed over to the office, opening the door with a creak. They didn’t have the proper equipment to analyse the crystals she had found – no need, she supposed – so the medic guessed that she would have to send them off to the science division of the ship.

The women grumbled, scowling at a point on the wall as she picked up the communicator that sat on her desk. This was going to be such a pain to chase down. She’d probably have to notify the Counsellor, since the medic had a feeling that she probably wasn’t the person the Director wanted to see currently. Clicking the radio on, she called Simmons. He was probably one of the smartest crew members she knew, so she had no doubts that the red soldier would be able to help her.

There was a slight pause and a crackle of static before the line opened, allowing West to hear someone in the background arguing. It was a bit hard to tell who it was but judging by the tone and the topic of sneaking away to have a nap, she assumed it was Grif. Honestly, she wasn’t entirely surprised. The two of them were pretty much inseparable anyway.

_“… No, Grif, go away! I can’t have a nap! I’ve got to get this work done for Sarge, and then I’ve got to file a repair form for that tank _you_ broke-“_

_“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! I was sneaking into the garage to see if I could find a place to sleep when I saw Caboose with that tank of his, and I figured ‘well, I don’t want to be run over again, do I?’ so I was trying to keep Caboose away from the tank, because, you know how destructive he is, and well, one thing led to another.”_

The medic rolled her eyes, listening to the commentary. “Simmons?”

_“And another thing-“_

“Simmons! I don’t mean to interrupt you two, but do you have a second?”

_“Oh! West, of course. What can I do for you?”_

“Well, Tex and I searched that soldier’s room and I found a few suspect items. Crystals of some sort. I’m not sure entirely what they are, but is there any chance of finding that out?”

_“Well, we could do a gas chromatography, find out some of the specific compounds – crystals, you say? Are they soluble in water? We might be able to use some of the equipment in the labs, sure-“_

West heard Grif groan over the radio. _“Jeez, you guys are so _boring_. I’m going to go try raid N’s ‘secret’ food hoard. Later.”_

There was a slight pause before the medic thought she heard Simmons mutter something under his breath. She wasn’t entirely sure what he said, but it sounded like _‘N has a secret hoard of food?’_ crossed with _‘of course he’d go do that.’_

“Simmons?”

_“Oh! Yes, sorry West. Well, if you send them over to me in the pneumatic duct, I can get onto that right away.”_

West rubbed one of the bags under her eyes. “Actually, I’d rather come over there myself. I want to find out what these crystals are as quickly as possible so I can let the other Agents know.”

_“Alright, but why do you want to tell the other Agents?”_

The medic crammed her helmet on her head, hearing the radio crackle to life. She then switched the one on the desk off before heading towards the door. “Well, if someone’s manufacturing illicit drugs on board, we’ll need to find them as quickly as possible. We already had those other drugs stolen from the med bays, so obviously, there is _some_ level of drug abuse on the ship. And, I really don’t want anyone else overdosing on anything they shouldn’t be using.”

_“That is fair enough. You really think we have a drug problem?”_

“Yeah, unfortunately. This is going to be such a pain…”

_“We’ll need to notify the Director, won’t we?”_ Simmons sighed over the radio.

West nodded, opening the outer door of the med bay. “Yeah. Although, I want to wait until Tex finishes searching the room and we find out what this stuff is.”

_“Alright. I’ll get some of the equipment set up.”_

“Perfect. I’ll see you in ten minutes.”


	25. Chapter 25

West knocked on the door of one of the science labs, only to hear a crash and someone cursing rather loudly. She then heard several quick footsteps coming towards the door before it slid open, revealing a slightly disgruntled Simmons. He sighed, rather dramatically, before ushering the medic in.

“I’m so sorry about the mess… I didn’t realise that Grif had left a peanut butter sandwich in my chromatograph, so I had to re-calibrate it and… _ugh_. He’s just so frustrating!” The auburn-haired man pinched the bridge of his nose as he stepped to the side of the door, ushering her in. “Anyway, come in. How’s the patient?”

The medic nodded in thanks as she stepped inside the lab. After she glanced around, she decided to roll her eyes at how Simmons was an apparent neat freak, with not one speck of dust floating around in the lab. She then snorted and smiled to herself as she felt Zeta chiding her for judging someone else’s cleanliness. The woman was far too clean herself.

As she pulled her helmet off, she smiled at the other agent. “Yeah, she seems fine. Doc’s looking after her now. We gave her some naloxone, so she should make a full recovery. We were lucky to get to her on time.”

He nodded, wandering over to one of the machines that cluttered his desk. “Well, that’s good then. So, yes. What did you want me to look at?”

West pulled out the bag of small, colourless crystals, before handing them to the man. He looked at them curiously, before nodded and glancing up at the medic. “This should be enough to analyse. I’m not sure how long it will take, so you may have to wait a while...”

He trailed off while tapping out a granule of one of the crystals, being careful not to drop it or touch it. Placing it in a small, colourless container, he then pulled a bottle filled with what West assumed was distilled water, before beginning to wash the crystal. West snorted, turning to the door. She wouldn’t really be that much use, and Simmons seemed to be in his own world, mumbling to himself under his breath. Well, she could probably use the equipment if pushed, but she didn’t want to interfere. So, she supposed that she’d just wait outside.

She didn’t even get to the door before her radio crackled to life in order to squawk in her ear.

_“West, I finished searching the room. I’m on my way back to Recovery now. Did you find out what those crystals were?”_

The medic stepped outside to talk to the blonde agent. “I’m just finding that out now, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take. I’m at Simmons’ lab. Did you find anything else?”

There was a short pause before a soft grunt of acknowledgement. _“…yeah, I found something. Looks like a distribution list of some sort. There’s a whole load of chemical formula and names on here, but I don’t recognise any. They might make more sense to you.”_

“Alright. I think Simmons may be a while, so I’ll head back now. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

_“Understood. I’ll meet you there.”_

Ten minutes later, West found herself back at Recovery, where she found the only people inside were Doc, Tex and the nurse. The surgeon was nowhere to be seen, so West could only assume that he was somewhere else on the ship for business.

Tex raised her head from the sheet of paper she was holding, standing up at the same time as the medic walked in. She’d been sitting on a gurney across from Doc, who was watching the blonde agent curiously. West had a feeling that she was probably asking the other medic if he recognised anything on the sheet of paper she had found.

“West, here. Do you recognise any of these formulae?”

The other agent handed the medic the sheet of paper, before crossing her arms over her chest. West looked up from the paper to glance at the woman with a raised eyebrow. “Did you recognise anything?”

Tex shook her head. “Some of the formula seemed familiar, but I don’t have the same background as the two of you. Doc didn’t recognise anything else, either, though.”

West glanced over at the other medic, who just frowned and shook his head. “Sorry. I was never really one for chemistry, if I’m honest.”

The redhead snorted, sinking down on one of the beds. “Neither am I. I mean, I did do chemistry in high school, but I’m honestly not sure how much I remember. It’s been a while.”

The other two agents fell silent as the medic turned her attention to the paper in her hands. It was true what Tex had said; the paper seemed to be a list of chemical formula and a list of names that sounded remarkably familiar. “Lysergic acid diethylamide, N,N-Dimethyltrytamine, 25I-NBOMe…”

The medic trailed off. Then she sighed. Tex and Doc looked at her patiently before the woman raised her head with an almost resigned look. “Well, I know what these are.”

Tex raised an eyebrow. “What?”

West pointed to the first name on the list: Lysergic acid diethylamide, before glancing over to what appeared to be the chemical formula of the compound. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that these are chemical formula for street drugs. LSD, DMT, N-bomb, Psilocybin… well, those are all fairly strong hallucinogens, if I remember correctly.”

The blonde agent paused, giving West a slightly amused look. “You must have a better memory than you remember.”

The medic shrugged, chuckling slightly. “Honestly? I never learnt about this stuff in school or Uni. I always used to teach myself about drugs and the like because it fascinated me.”

“Uni?” Doc looked confused at the term. West chuckled and waved her hand dismissively.

“University. It’s our version of college.”

“Ah, okay.” Doc nodded slightly, to himself, before refocusing back on the other medic. “Well, what do you reckon that paper’s for?”

West ran a gloved hand through her hair. “Well, if I _had_ to guess, it could be a list of drugs that could be possibly made on the ship? I mean, there’s no proper procedure for making illegal drugs - and I don’t know why psilocybin is on there, since that’s a compound found in certain mushrooms – and DMT is also found in certain plants, but I suppose that you could create some with a proper supply of the plant-“

“West.” Tex cut the medic off, who gave a sheepish grin. She’d always tended to ramble on when started on a topic that she was quite fascinated about. West cleared her throat, looking up at the two other agents.

“Well, it’s most likely a list of drugs that can be easily made on the ship. I mean, there are some compounds here that would be difficult to make, but that would also depend on the equipment of the people making these drugs.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “This is all just speculation though. We’d have to see if we could find any other information on this list.”

Doc exhaled. “We’ll need to investigate this quickly. Finding a list of illegal drugs is never a good thing.”

The other medic nodded in agreement. “Yeah. If something goes wrong, we may or may not have a lot of OD patients on our hands. And, well, we only have one med bay now, so any increase in serious casualties will put us under some _serious_ strain.”

Both medics sighed at that point, as both knew about the difficulty of triaging and managing multiple casualties at once. It was not a good prospect.

“What do you reckon these could be?” Tex had spoken up suddenly, breaking the silence to point at what seemed to be a random arrangement of letters, arranged into groups of two. West paused, before frowning.

“I don’t know, actually. I don’t recognise the order, and they don’t seem to relate to the formula…” The woman trailed off, before looking up, sharply. “What if these are initials or some form of code, for the other people in this group?”

All three of the agents paused, with West considering what she had just said. Tex pressed her lips into a thin line, obviously deep in thought. The medic looked at the sequence of letters again. It must’ve been some form of code; the letters AF and SP were repeated several times. The same word, maybe?

She looked at the code again, pondering. She was going to get nowhere if she thought in circles. Heading over to the office, West scrounged up a sheet of paper and a pen before heading back out to Tex and Doc. Tex raised her head but came over to the bed that West sat down on, curious.

“Got a plan for breaking this?”

West gave a half-confident smile. “Sort of? I was just going to see if I could make sense of these letters. So, maybe if I write down the alphabet…”

Smoothing the paper down on the bed, the medic wrote the English alphabet out in capital letters, leaving a small amount of space between each letter. She then wrote the code out underneath.

QJ DL VQ AF SP AF SP AF SP AF SP

ES PQ BU AF SP AF SP UI SF FA FS P

She was about to start writing possible combinations of words that had two letters in them, before Tex began muttering something under her breath. “Tex?” Doc asked cautiously.

The blonde woman paused, opening her mouth for a second before a moment of realisation dawned on her face. West glanced at Doc before turning to look back at the other agent, who had snatched the piece of paper from West’s hands and had begun to scribble something down on the paper. After a minute of silence, the agent paused, bringing her head up to look at the two medics. She then turned the piece of paper around, before pointing to what she had written.

PI CK UP ZE RO ZE RO ZE RO ZE RO

DR OP AT ZE RO ZE RO TH RE EZ ER O

It still looked like gibberish, but West had a feeling that she knew where Tex was going. Without saying anything, the blonde began putting slashes in certain spots, revealing the secret message:

“Pick up zero zero zero zero

Drop at zero zero three zero.”

The blonde then smirked triumphantly, before placing the paper down on the bed. “They really should invest in a better code. That one is way too easy to break.”

Doc frowned, pointing to the numbers spelt out in the message. “But it’s still in a code, if you think about it. What do these numbers mean?”

West paused, thinking. “Well, 0000 is midnight in twenty-four-hour time, correct?” When both agents nodded, West continued, “So that must be the drop off time for whatever this person was supposed to be carrying. 0030 is apparently the pickup time. Or, well, the drop off time.”

The purple medic frowned while Tex scowled. “That does present a problem though,” He pointed to the message, “As it doesn’t leave a location. They must have already known the location in advance.”

The redhead medic turned to Tex, who glanced up to look at her. “Did we miss anything in the room?”

Tex shook her head. “No. And we can assume that they already dropped off their package, since we didn’t manage to find anything else, other than those crystals you found.”

Silence fell again. That was true.

Tex then raised her head again. “We do have some leads though.”

West nodded. “The soldiers in the room. We’ll need to question them.” The medic frowned, running a hand through her hair. “This is going to be such a pain.”

Doc sighed while Tex gave a short chuckle. The blonde agent clapped the other woman on the back, before turning to the door. “Why don’t you go see if Simmons has finished?”

West gave a short smile, hopping off the bed. “May as well. You’re going to tell the Director?”

Tex nodded, and both women turned to the purple medic. “Hold down the fort, Doc?”

He just smiled, tiredly, before waving the two women off. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be here if you need me. Have fun, you two.”

West made it back to the lab within ten minutes, only to find Simmons walking out the door as she rounded the corner. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, as his head was buried in a sheet with some form of graphical data printed on it.

“Simmons!” The medic called out, causing the maroon agent to whip his head up to focus on West.

“Oh, West! I was just coming to find you. I just printed out the data, but I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking at. Two different chemicals seemed to have been mixed, but I haven’t been able to log onto the ship’s network, so I haven’t been able to look them up. But, yes, here.” With a short smile, he handed the medic the sheet of paper before turning back down the corridor. Calling over his shoulder, he began to hurry down the hallway. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to get to training! Sarge wants us all in the training room and you know how he is.”

And then he was gone, with West shaking her head at the man with a smile. Well, at least she had something. Glancing down at the sheet, the medic frowned. There was a large graph in one corner of the page, but she didn’t really need that information. Whatever had been in the crystals was of near equal concentration, judging from the graph. She was far more interested in the chemical formula printed just underneath.

Well, she had been half right.

_>>C10H15N… isn’t that the chemical formula for N-methylamphetamine?>>_

Zeta piped up, sounding quite curious. West nodded, beginning to head back down to Recovery. “Otherwise, methamphetamine. Or ice, depending on who you ask.”

She could feel the AI nod in her head, processing the information on the sheet.

_>>So, you were correct. But what is that other formula? C13H16ClNO?>>_

The medic paused, before shaking her head. “Well, we know now what they were doing with the ketamine that they stole from the med bays on the ship.”

_>>A stimulant with a sedative? That cannot be a good combination.>>_

West shook her head, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Certainly not. Gotta love speedballs, fucking hell. And, looking at this, both substances were quite pure when combined. That’s defiantly going to be a problem.”

_>>Easier to overdose.>>_

“Yeah.”

Both agent and AI fell silent as West strode down the bleak corridor. West could feel Zeta running through treatment procedures in the back of her mind, which was oddly comforting. At least she knew that she could rely on Zeta to know what he was doing. She was more concerned about what she was going to tell Doc and Tex, and the Director by extension. Snorting slightly, she rolled her eyes, reminding herself that she would probably need to call Doc and Tex. Well, she’d probably wait a bit, as she didn’t want to interrupt Tex and the Director, and she was almost at Recovery, so she could just tell Doc there.

The medic sighed. How were they going to deal with this? They did have that woman that OD, but they’d have to wait for her to wake up. They also had the names of the roommates of their patient, but if they had any common sense, they would’ve cleared out already.

West rolled the thoughts around her head, deliberating. She’d probably have to wait until Tex got back from telling the Director – and there was no knowing how that could go, but the Director seemed to like Tex, so hopefully well – but she wasn’t entirely sure who was going to help clean this mess up. She’d probably need the help of the other agents to help track the soldiers from the room down; maybe she’d ask Carolina or Wash?

Actually- she didn’t think asking Carolina would be a good idea since she was damn terrifying when she wanted to be, and it would probably be easier to get information out of someone when they weren’t piss-terrified of the interrogator. Right. Okay.

The medic came up to Recovery, opening the door with a quiet ‘_woosh_.’ Doc was in the office, doing paperwork, and the OD soldier was in the corner of the room, hooked up to the ventilator. The nurse was hovering nearby, and West couldn’t see the surgeon.

Opening the office door with a creak, West stepped inside, with Doc glancing up to see the redheaded medic enter. “West?”

Handing the sheet of paper to the purple medic, West sat heavily on the cot in the corner of the room. Waving a hand at the paper, she rested her head against the wall with a sigh. This stress would give her an aneurysm, she’d swear. “Methamphetamines and ketamine. That’s what were in the crystals.”

Doc paused for a moment, reading the data, before he seemed to realise the problem that presented, “Wait, combined?”

West nodded, sitting up again to look at her friend. “We need to shut this down quickly. This could end badly if we don’t.”

The other medic opened his mouth for a moment before closing it. He then nodded resolutely, frowning at West. “We should get this to the Director. Or, at least Tex should see it.”

“Do you want me to radio her? She’s probably with the Director at the moment.” West paused for a moment before nodding. “No, I’ll do it now. This is important.” Leaning forwards on the cot, West rested her forearms on her thighs before she opened a com line to Tex. There was a moment of static before West heard Tex’s voice, talking.

_“No, sir, we don’t know –“ _She broke off, West’s radio call catching her attention. _“Sorry, Sir, it’s West. May I take this?”_

There was the sound of a muffled voice talking back in response before Tex’s clear voice came through the radio. _“Yeah, West? What’s up?”_

The medic stood, leaning on her left hip as she began to walk around the office. It was a habit for her to wander and walk around when on the radio. “Tex, I got the results back from Simmons. It’s, well…” The medic trailed off, trying to think of a way to explain it that it wouldn’t sound like gibberish.

_“West?”_

“Oh, sorry. Just trying to think of a way to phrase this. It’s not good. Basically, the crystals were made of a combination of methamphetamine and the ketamine that was stolen from our med bays.”

_“Are you expecting more drug overdoses?”_

“Well, if the people producing this stuff are distributing it… yeah, no doubt. The compounds were fairly pure as well.” The medic rubbed the back of her neck, thinking. “It’s going to be really hard to treat so we need to get on top of this as soon as possible. It won’t end well, otherwise.”

_“Understood. Just give me a moment to relay this…” _West heard the blonde agent trail off, before she began speaking to what the medic assumed to be the Director. He said something back to her, still muffled, and Tex affirmed what he had said.

A few minutes passed before Tex spoke to West again. _“West, the Director wants this to be dealt with discreetly, so we’re allow to get a few other agents to help us. Who do you want me to grab?”_

The medic paused, thinking. “Well, Simmons knows already, so we should probably grab him. Maybe Wash, North and York? Delta could probably help us as well. And Carolina, too.”

West seemed to receive a stony silence from the other end of the radio before Tex grunted in affirmation. _“Understood. You may have to grab Carolina yourself. She won’t like it if I tell her.”_

The medic sighed, nodding. “Yeah, alright.”

_“Okay. Give me half an hour to track everyone down.”_

“Got it. I’ll go get Carolina then.”

_“See you in Recovery.”_


	26. Chapter 26

Initially, West wasn’t entirely sure where to find the cyan agent, but she supposed that she’d visit the training hall first. The redheaded agent, when not studying or revising whatever they had to learn in their classes, was almost always training. It was obsessive, but, to West, it seemed to be getting worse. Maybe it was a way for the woman to deal with the whole Cerberus ordeal? It seemed like something Carolina would do. She didn’t seem to have the best coping strategies.

It took the medic a few minutes to make it to the training hall, and, not really to her surprise, she found Carolina training in the training hall. It looked like she was trying to improve the speed of her attacks by using some of the training holograms that were pre-programmed into the console in the room above the hall. After a moment, West realised that Carolina must’ve kicked the Reds out of the training hall, since West couldn’t see any sign of them. Oh well. Grif would be happy then.

Also, something that wasn’t entirely surprising; York was there too, sitting back and watching the other redhead with a slight frown and a look of concern on his face. West had a feeling that she knew why he was so focused on watching over Carolina; she had a nasty habit of pushing herself too hard when faced with a challenge. If it wasn’t a way to deal with her worry, the agent seemed to use the training hall to take out her anger. Maybe something had happened between her and Tex?

As the door slid open, West stepped in to find York gazing up at her from his position at the console that sat just before the wide, glass windows. He tossed her a nod before turning back to watch the woman down in the hall. “West. What’s up?”

West gave a short smile before she came over to sit in the chair next to the scarred man. “Well, I need your help with something.” She nodded at Carolina, who had just completed another round of attacks, “And I need Carolina’s help as well.”

That seemed to gain York’s full attention, and he turned to the medic, who, after a second of watching the cyan agent, turned to face him. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly curious. “Okay, I’m intrigued. What’s up?”

The medic shook her head before standing up. “I’d rather not explain here, but I need you guys to come back to Recovery with me. There’s a problem.”

York shrugged before standing up. “Do you want me to get Carolina?”

West gave him a tight smile. “No, it’s okay. Just give me a second.”

The man nodded, before sitting back down in his chair. West, heading over to the elevator, pressed the button. Jeez, it seemed like the last time she’d been in this elevator was when Maine had nearly thrown a pair of dumbbells through her head. Or was it when she’d gotten everyone to play footie? She couldn’t entirely remember, so the medic shook her head. She had far too much on her mind to bother worrying about what she could or couldn’t remember. The shake seemed to dispel the thoughts, and the medic nodded stiffly, gathering herself.

The door opened, and as she stepped out, she saw that Carolina had completed yet another round of whatever exercise she was doing. The other redhead paused as the medic stepped out of the lift, before continuing with the exercise. “West, can it wait? I’m training.”

The medic sighed. “Carolina, I need your help with something. Can you come with me?”

The agent paused, causing the hologram to freeze, shimmering in the air as Carolina stepped out of the holographic ring. Pulling her helmet off her head with a twist, she fixed a stern eye on the medic. “What’s the problem?”

West exhaled, shaking her head. “I’d rather not explain here. We’ve got to keep it quiet. Director’s orders.”

That seemed to catch the woman’s attention, so she nodded quickly before calling for FILLIS to turn off the training program. It disappeared with a flicker, and after a moment’s pause, both agents made their way to the lift. York was waiting for them at the top, where he glanced at West briefly before fixing his good eye on the other redhead. A moment passed between Carolina and York, when Carolina lifted an eyebrow while York nodded in response. After that, both agents began to follow West back to Recovery.

“Alright, West, spill. What’s the problem and why do you need our help?” The second that the three of them passed the threshold of the Recovery door, York and Carolina had both cornered the medic. York seemed slightly more curious than Carolina, who stood silently with her arms crossed to the side of the entrance.

West glanced around the room before turning back to her friends. She could see Doc in the office, and after a moment, he looked up at the sound of the door opening to see the trio. Bustling out of the office, he greeted the three. “Ah! West, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon! Tex just radioed in to say that she would be a few minutes. She had to track down the Red team. They were in the kitchen for some reason, but I think N might be bringing Grif in for treatment.”

“Wait. N’s bringing Grif in? Why?”

Doc shrugged, moving to tidy some wayward supplies lying on top of a nearby table. “Apparently he ‘accidentally’ cut himself with a knife? They didn’t really say much else…”

West paused for a moment, considering this, before she shook her head. “Those guys are impossible…” She turned back to the agents lingering in the doorway before she motioned to the beds. “We’ll wait until they get here. That’ll save us from having to repeat ourselves.”

Carolina shrugged and moved to sit on one of the bunks, with York shadowing her.

A few minutes later and Tex strode in through the door, with a disgruntled Simmons, whining Grif, annoyed N, angry Sarge and a concerned Donut all in tow. Simmons dragged Grif towards Doc almost immediately, while the other Reds decided to linger in the middle of the room.

West paused, blinking, before she shot Tex a confused glance. “I thought we only agreed on bringing Simmons in?”

Tex shrugged nonchalantly, turning to face the medic. “We agreed on Simmons, but N injured Grif, so we had to bring both in. Donut was just concerned and Sarge wanted to know where I was taking his ‘soldiers’.” She waved a hand at the group. “This operation won’t be as discreet now.”

“I think you mean, it _won’t_ be discreet. The Reds never do anything quietly.” Wash sighed as he entered, having heard the last few sentences of the conversation. West nodded to the grey and yellow agent, who gave a short smile to the other freelancers in the room. Tex turned to face West, raising her right eyebrow.

West took a breath, nodding at the blonde agent before moving to stand in the centre of the room. There was still a fair amount of chatter and noise, so West had to raise her voice to be heard.

“Can everyone be quiet please?!” When the noise had reduced to a couple of grumbles, mainly from Sarge, who was grumbling about being kicked out of the training hall, and Grif, who was still whining about his hand. On a quick glance, his hand appeared to have a large incision stretching from his thumb up to his pinky finger. It didn’t appear to be deep and was bleeding shallowly, but every minute or so, Lambda would appear at N’s shoulder to give Grif a deep scowl before pointing her fingers at her eyes before motioning to his own.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she looked up to see the freelancers watching her expectantly, with most of the agents lounging on the cots in the room. “Well, to be blunt, we have a problem. Tex and I found some illegal drugs in one of the bedrooms of the female soldiers. Turns out that the substance was methamphetamines mixed with the stolen ketamine from our med bays.”

Her statement was met with silence until Sarge called out gruffly: “Well, what do you expect us to do about it, Doc?”

West nodded to Tex, who stood up from her perch on the cot closest to the door. “We weren’t planning on involving the Reds, but the Director instructed us to follow any potential leads that we might find.”

“Under our own initiative?” Carolina asked rather coolly, raising an eyebrow at the blonde agent. Tex narrowed her eyes slightly but nodded.

“We can use whatever means that we believe necessary. West and Doc aren’t prepared for dealing with drug overdoses caused by this cocktail.” The agent nodded at West, who continued with the briefing.

“The only leads we have at the moment are-“

She was cut off as a crash echoed from one of the air vents towards the office. Whipping around, West and the other agents came face to face with Caboose, who was sprawled out on the ground, looking around with both an innocent and confused look.

West sighed. Bloody hell. “Caboose, what _are_ you doing?”

The blue agent scrambled to his feet, giving the medic a bright and cheery smile. “Hi Miss Medic! I was looking for Cerberus. I know he likes to play in the vents, but he’s been hiding for a while now, so I thought I should find him! It’s like a huge game of hide and seek!”

Donut and N began to step forwards, planning on looking after their friend, when another yell rang out of the vent and a bright, cyan agent fell out on top of Caboose. “Church! What the fuck man! Watch where you’re going, fuckface!”

“You can’t blame me, asshole, when your fat ass blocks the entire vent! Whose idea was it to follow Caboose anyway-“ Church’s head appeared from the vent, helmet on, when he caught sight of the other agents lingering in Recovery. “What the fuck is going on? Why the hell are the Reds here?”

“Church-“ Both Wash and Carolina spoke at the same time, with Wash sounding wearily resigned and Carolina sounding mildly irritated. West just groaned in annoyance. Junior popped his head out of the vent a moment later with a small honk, supposedly following his father.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” West pinched the bridge of her nose while Tex picked up Church by the collar and Wash went to help Tucker up, “Just sit down and listen. This was supposed to be a _discreet_ mission.”

The last part was more grumbled to herself, but under both Tex and Carolina’s stern glares, Tucker and Church sat down with little complaint. Caboose sat at their feet, playing with one of Church’s boots, which would occasionally jerk back in annoyance.

West took a breath in, exhaled, before she caught her bearings. “Okay, as I was saying, we think someone might be making and distributing illegal drugs on the ship. We think it’s linked to the robbery of the drugs from the med bay as well. The leads we have currently are the soldiers’ room where we located some of these drugs and the woman who overdosed on morphine.”

Church looked like he wanted to say something before Carolina interrupted the cobalt soldier, who gave a nasty scowl at the cyan one. Ah, sibling love. “What’s the plan? If the suspects have already realised that you and Tex searched their rooms, they’ll be long gone by now.”

Tex grunted in acknowledgement before motioning to the unconscious woman lying in the corner of the room. “We still have her.”

“Will she wake up?” Wash fixed a searching gaze on the woman before turning to West, who shrugged.

“We managed to get to her in time to administer some naloxone,” She received a few blank looks, mainly from the Reds and Blues, so she just waved her hand and continued on, “So we just have to wait until she wakes up. Judging by the amount that she overdosed by, that’ll be a few hours.”

“West…” Doc looked up from treating Grif’s hand to give her a knowing look. West just shook her head at him, knowing what he was referring to. He sighed and nodded, returning to bandaging Grif’s palm.

“But West, isn’t one of the potential complications of morphine overdose brain damage?” Simmons frowned, thinking, before glancing up to look at the medic, who just scowled at the maroon agent. His eyes widened in realisation a moment later and he winced, looking apologetic.

“West, what aren’t you telling us?” York gave his friend a stern look. Delta then appeared at his shoulder, flickering green under the fluorescent Recovery lights.

“I believe that what Simmons is referring to, is that possible brain damage may have occurred as a result of hypoxia to the brain due to respiratory depression.”

“English, Delta?”

Zeta then appeared at West’s shoulder, interrupting Delta’s explanation, which had already begun with several large words that no one knew the meaning of.

_>>Delta means that, since morphine overdoses can cause people to stop breathing, the patient’s brain may have received damage due to the lack of oxygen.>>_

That caused everyone to pause, considering this new piece of information. Carolina turned to look at West with the beginnings of a scowl on her face. “West, are you saying that the only lead we may have _brain damage_?”

_>>Well, no.>>_

“Z’s right. It’s only a possibility. We got her on oxygen quickly enough and administered the naloxone. That’s all we can do. We just have to wait until she wakes up.”


	27. Chapter 27

It was hard, waiting. While West had learnt over the years that patience was extremely important, she still found it hard to be still when she was waiting for extremely important information, like what she was waiting for now. The medic was still in Recovery, a couple hours later, and their OD patient still hadn’t woken up.

It was even more frustrating knowing that there was every possibility that she _wouldn’t _wake. While she and Doc had gotten to her in time to administer the help she needed, they may have been a moment too slow. The brain, while an amazing organ, could only last up to four minutes or so without oxygen before permanent brain damage occurred.

And West wasn’t entirely sure how long she had been unconscious for, before they found her. Even so, there was the possibility that she _would_ be okay; while morphine was a respiratory depressant, maybe the soldier hadn’t taken enough to reach that point. West supposed that was unlikely, given how quickly her vitals had begun deteriorating.

At least she was stable now, with the nurse keeping a watchful eye on her vitals as she wandered around the office and med bay. West and Doc, for the first hour or so, had given the other agents a brief rundown of what they might see when tackling this problem; what overdose symptoms looked like, what the drugs themselves could look like, and how to take care of someone who had overdosed. To be honest, there wasn’t much the agents could do without the proper equipment and training, except making sure to take vital signs and to make sure to tell West, Doc or the medical personnel exactly what had happened.

Other than that, everyone had dispersed from the med bay quite quickly after being dismissed. Carolina had lingered slightly longer than the others, with Wash and York accompanying her, to ask West a few questions about the drug types they might encounter when tracking these people down.

“When we capture these people, we’ll bring them to the brig to find out what they know. Is there anything you can give us to help?” Carolina crossed her arms with a thoughtful look on her face. West frowned, tidying up some small vials before placing them back into the drug cabinet.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the man that you caught. We couldn’t get anything from him, even when we were being… well, extremely persuasive. Is there anything you can give us to help them talk easier?”

The medic paused, frowning. “Like a truth serum?”

York and Wash turned to look at each other quickly before looking at their friend. “You have a truth serum?”

West shrugged, dusting her hands off before standing up straight. “I never said I did.”

Carolina nodded. “Yes, exactly. A truth serum.” The medic frowned, thinking. She did have something, but it was known to be extremely unreliable. Carolina crossed her arms before raising an eyebrow. “You have something we can use?”

The redhead sighed. “Well, I have a vial of sodium thiopental. It’s been used as a truth serum in the past, but it’s extremely unreliable for evidence.”

“What is it normally used for?” Wash seemed curious.

“Well, it’s a rapid-onset short-acting barbiturate general anaesthetic. It’s otherwise used in lethal injections, to knock the prisoner out before they kill them. That’s only at large doses though.” Rubbing at one of the freckles on her neck, she shrugged. “If you want to use it as a truth serum, any evidence given or taken when drugged wouldn’t be admissible in any form of court. That’s been made well known in the past.”

Carolina paused for a moment before nodded at West. “Can you prepare it for us? We’re not going to court and we only need to find out who’s involved.”

The medic sighed, before nodded. “Try normal interrogating techniques first. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll use the sodium thiopental.”

The cyan agent nodded before turning to leave. York and Wash threw West a few parting smiles before following her out, conversing between themselves. West supposed they’d be back later.

And then she was left to her waiting.

It was nearly three hours later, nearing dinner, when something happened. The nurse had left to go get some dinner for the two of them, with Doc heading off with her to get some food as well. West had volunteered to watch the woman, who remained in the same position the nurse had placed her in a few hours ago.

She had to be shifted around constantly; a common problem for bedridden patients was bedsores, which tended to form when patients were left to lay in one position for a long time. They also had a bad habit of getting infected. Back home on earth, it was common for patients to actually get infections while in hospital. Most people would suppose that that would be counter-intuitive, considering hospitals were supposed to be extremely sterile, but multi-drug resistant bacteria were a major problem back home.

While West hadn’t seen a patient gain an infection from either med bays on the ship, they still had to follow procedures to prevent anything serious from happening. She was skilled enough, thankfully, to move the bedridden patient on her own. The woman’s stature didn’t exactly pose a problem, as she couldn’t have been more than five foot five, seemingly tiny next to West’s six-foot stature.

They had also managed to identify the mystery woman; she was a private first class, one of the lower ranking soldiers. She’d been a soldier for just over two years and was from a moon in one of the planetary systems towards the edge of the human-explored milky way. West didn’t recognise the name, so she assumed that it wasn’t really that important. Her name was unfamiliar too, Annie Summer, so West probably hadn’t had the woman as a patient before. But at least they knew who she was now.

However, as the medic was shifting the patient to prevent bedsores and to reduce the risk of embolisms, she was honestly considering the possibility that the woman had received brain damage due to her drug overdose. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t see or hear Z when he popped up next to her shoulder to gain her attention.

_>>West?>>_

A moment passed, before the AI tried again.

_>>West!>>_

That caught the medic’s attention, and she raised her eyes from her patient to her AI. “Z? You alright?”

The AI flickered for a moment, flashing red slightly. That caused West to focus her attention more importantly on Zeta, who appeared to be concentrating. When he flickered like that, he tended to have something important to say.

_>>I believe the patient is in the process of waking up.>>_

The medic paused, blinking in surprise, before she turned a questioning look to the AI. “How can you tell?”

_>>Both her respiration and heart rates have increased. Along with this, her nerve impulses in the reticular activating system have begun to transmit low voltage, fast burst brain waves.>>_

So that meant that the part of the brain that regulated sleep-wake transitions was beginning to bring the woman out of her temporary coma. She needed to know how fast she was exiting her unresponsive state. “Zeta, can you calculate how long it will take for the woman to become fully conscious?”

A few seconds passed while Z ran through an algorithm that would allow him to work out how long it would take for her to wake up.

_>>It could be between half an hour to an hour. I apologise I couldn’t be more accurate.>>_

West chuckled. “That’s quite alright, Z. I’ll just need to let Doc know that she’s waking up.”

_>>Understood. I will continue to monitor the patient’s vitals.>>_

“Thanks, Z. Hopefully she’ll wake up alright, but tell me if there are any complications.”

_>>Understood.>>_

If she was honest, West was slightly more nervous than she would’ve liked to admit. While she hadn’t contacted the other freelancers to let them know that the woman was waking up, she had indicated to the nurse and Doc over the radio that she was beginning to regain consciousness. Both personnel had rushed back to the Recovery bay, dumping their trays of food in the office before preparing themselves.

“West, when did Zeta say the patient would wake up?” The nurse was looking rather concerned, checking the woman’s vitals.

“Between half an hour to an hour. He couldn’t be more specific that. All good?”

The nurse nodded, indicating that her vitals were fine, while Doc sat on one of the bunks, tapping his foot on the ground nervously. “And you haven’t told the others?”

West shook her head. “No. You know how Carolina can get when she’s angry or on a mission. I didn’t want to alarm the patient.”

Doc nodded, returning to stare at the patient, drifting into his own thoughts. It was at that point that there was a slight shifting from the bed. Not much, but enough to catch the attentions of the medics and nurse. It was followed by a soft grunt and a long, slow, exhale. The respirator had been removed a little while ago, as the woman could maintain her own airway.

The nurse moved from the foot of the bed to the side, before placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder and another on her hand. “Private Summer, can you hear me? Open your eyes or squeeze my hand once if you can.”

There was a moment of concentration, with the nurse frowning, before she glanced up at West and Doc, giving a short nod. That was good. It meant that she could hear them. With her eyes fixed on the soldier’s face, West noticed that her eyelids flickered briefly, seeming to open slightly before falling shut again. The woman was probably extremely fatigued. It wasn’t unheard of in overdose cases.

West moved to the opposite side of the bed, bending over slightly so if the woman opened her eyes, she would be in her field of view. She then began to explain what had happened. “Private, you are in Recovery. Do you understand?” There was a brief nod from the nurse, who had apparently had her hand squeezed. West nodded and continued. “We’re going to ask you about what you remember. Can you squeeze the nurse’s hand once for yes and twice for no?”

The nurse nodded and held up one finger. She seemed concerned though, and West could guess why. “West, she just woke up. She might be too disoriented to answer questions properly.”

The medic sighed, nodding. “I know, but she might be more compliant now than when she’s fully conscious. We’ll take note of what she agrees to now,” West nodded to Doc, who had a pen and paper clutched in his hands, “and we’ll compare those answers to what she says later.”

There was a moment’s pause before the nurse nodded. West bent down to the patient again. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

The nurse held up two fingers. That was a no.

“Do you know your name?” They _had_ told her – well, her last name at least - but if she said no, it would indicate to them that something may have been wrong with her brain. It was hard to check her orientation if the patient couldn’t speak, but this would have to do. The nurse held up one finger. Yes.

“Do you know your rank and serial number?” One finger was raised.

“Do you regularly take morphine?” That gained a glare from the nurse, who gave West a slightly disbelieving look. That question might’ve been a bit too difficult. The look from the nurse degraded slightly when she held up one finger, which Doc quickly scribbled down.

“Does anyone else you know take drugs?”

“Aren’t these leading questions, West?” That question pulled an annoyed glare from the nurse, but she did end up holding up one finger. “You know she might just be squeezing at random.”

The medic sighed. “I know, but we have to give this a shot. Besides, she’s only been squeezing once or twice at most, right?” The nurse nodded, so West continued, “So that means that either she does understand our questions or is too weak to squeeze more than that. Actually…”

The medic bent down closer to the patient. “Annie, can you squeeze six times for me?”

The nurse paused for a moment, counting, before she nodded with a sigh. “That’s six.”

“So, she does understand.”

“… Fine, let’s get on with the questions.”

West nodded, resolving the minor conflict, before pulling up a list of women that the patient shared a room with. They’d obtained the list earlier when waiting for the woman to regain consciousness. “Summer, I’m going to read out to you a list of names. Squeeze once if you recognise these names. Okay?”

There was a short pause, and the nurse held up one finger. West took that as a cue that she understood. If the woman recognised the names that they were reading to her, then the patient could possibly help them locate the women or determine who were involved.

“Alright. Cathy Johnson.”

One finger. She recognised the names. That was good.

“Linda Harris.”

One more finger. West nodded. There was one more name, and then they could start asking her whether her roommates were involved with her drug abuse.

“Alright, last name. Shelby King.”

The nurse paused for a moment before pulling away and nodding. “She recognised all three, apparently.”

West turned back to the bed before several loud footsteps echoed outside of the Recovery corridor. The medic grumbled, glancing towards the door, just as it slid open. What now?

It was Carolina, and she looked considerably dishevelled, hair falling out of her normally neat ponytail. West frowned as the freelancer stalked towards her, but she appeared more worried than anything else, judging by her hunched shoulder and concerned expression.

“West, grab a first aid kit.”

West looked at the nurse and Doc confusedly before turning back to look at Carolina. When the medic didn’t move, the agent sighed impatiently, glaring. “Now, West!”

The medic shrugged but quickly grabbed the already packed first aid kit that was lying near the opened door. She had decided to have a pre-packed kit ready at all times, just in case she was surprised with an urgent patient like she assumed was happening now?

With a pause, a shrug, and a quick nod at the nurse and Doc to continue with the questioning of the patient, West followed Carolina out the door. She almost immediately had to run to keep up with the other redhead, as she was walking rather quickly.

“Carolina! Bloody hell, wait up!”

The cyan agent maybe slowed a fraction of a second, giving West a stern look. “Hurry up.”

She then took off again, refusing to answer any of West’s questions. West just had to trot along, simmering in mild annoyance at Carolina’s refusal to tell her any details of where they were going. Oh, well. She just had to suck it up and be prepared.

Nearly ten minutes had passed before West realised where they were going. Judging by the fact that they were near the bridge, but weren’t heading in that direction, the two were going to the Director’s personal quarters.

“Ah, shit. Did I do something to piss the Director off again?” West groaned, now dreading the encounter. She did _not_ ask for this!

Carolina paused, blinking in surprise. “What? No! It’s another reason. Something more… delicate.”

“It couldn’t have waited? The woman just woke up.”

The agent shook her head. “No. Trust me, you’ll understand soon. A heads up, though; when they talk to you, you’ll be just as confused as I am.”

The medic grumbled. Great. But what was that supposed to mean, that she’d be confused?

Both agents continued walking, and they reached the office a few minutes later. Carolina paused at the door, seemingly to steady herself, before knocking on the metal frame. There were a few muffled voices inside, but nothing distinguishable. They stopped, and the door slid open with a faint hiss.

West had to admit, the Director had a pretty good interior designer. The room was sleek, with pale grey walls and a wooden panel on the far side. There was only a single, mahogany desk in the room, backed by what appeared to be a brown leather office chair. Several chairs was scattered around the office, but judging by their grubby appearance, they’d been taken from somewhere else.

The Director was sitting in the chair behind the desk, and after a second, beckoned the two in. The Counsellor was standing at his right shoulder, quietly observing. They were both watching a figure that had an old blanket draped over their shoulders, and who had a glowing orb hovering over their left shoulder. They weren’t wearing armour, but…

Shock. That was the first thing that she felt.

Surprise came next. Then confusion. _(Well, there it was.)_

“Cerberus?”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol so this is a mpreg fic now??  
Anyway, the artwork is from my good friend at https://twitter.com/muddylaneart?lang=en  
Check out her shit, it's pretty cool.  
Hope you enjoy the chapter!  
Thanks,   
Catherine (Delirious)

West almost dropped the first aid kit, but she managed to snag the strap before it fell to the ground. It made her stagger, but she righted herself quickly under the disapproving glare of the older men in front of her. Placing it gently down, she couldn’t hide her shock at the fact that her friend was sitting across from her, seemingly okay. Granted, the last time she’d seen Cerberus was when he’d been acting feral in the med bay, so she sighed in relief before giving a short laugh.

Cerberus seemed to be shivering, hence the old blanket, and appeared to have several healing injuries that West spotted immediately. She couldn’t exactly help it; she noticed injuries on everyone. He turned to her slightly, giving her a weak smile as the orb near his shoulder vibrated. Cerberus glanced at it briefly, communicating mentally before turning back to West. The Director waved at her to take a seat, but West ignored him, hurrying over to her friend to drag him into a tight hug. He tensed up at first, but leaned into her armour, resting his head on her breastplate. After a moment, West pulled back to give him a short smile.

“Hey West.” His voice sounded rough, breaking in certain spots. If West didn’t know better, she would think that Cerberus sounded sick. Maybe from overuse?

“Cerberus. What the _hell_ are you doing here?” West just blinked at him, briefly, before breaking into a wider smile to hug her friend again. The Director took that time to interject.

“That was why we called you here, Agent. Now, can you please sit down?”

West paused, giving Cerberus an inspecting look before she nodded, perching in one of the old office chairs sitting before the Director’s desk while Carolina hovered between her and Cerberus. The Director nodded before he continued; “Before any information is given to you, Agent, understand that none of what is said in this room is to leave it. You will only be given information that we find appropriate, and this will be enough for you to treat Agent Cerberus.”

West turned to look at Cerberus, who gave her a half-hearted smile. She wanted to glare at the Director, irritation and annoyance warring with her joy at having her friend back.

“Is this understood?” The Director fixed the medic with a stern gaze, who nodded. “Good. Cerberus had been undergoing a program to help him integrate with his AI, Guardian. Only us in this room are aware of it, including Agent Maine, who Cerberus insisted on informing for his own wellbeing. While on this program, Cerberus was also on deployment to several covert operations. It is during this time that he has begun feeling unwell. Since I did not want to reveal Cerberus’ hybrid nature to outside informants, he has been brought back here. It had been made aware to me that you have experience with treating alien anatomy. Is this correct?”

“Well, more or less, yeah.”

“Good. You may undertake an analysis of Cerberus to determine why he isn’t feeling well.”

West paused. “Well, he’d have to come back to Recovery-“

The stern glare from the Director made her cut off. “It will be done here.”

The medic internally groaned. How the hell was she supposed to find out what was wrong when Cerberus was Cerberus? He wasn’t entirely human. She sighed, swinging her chair around to face her friend. “Can you tell me your symptoms?”

Cerb gave a weak smile before nodding. “Well, I’ve been having dizzy spells and I’ve been throwing up just recently. I’ve also,” He paused, thinking, “Ah, well, I’ve also been hungrier and gaining weight, but I didn’t think that was related…”

West felt Zeta flicker in her head briefly at that, feeling his confusion. She was probably mirroring that particular emotion, but that really couldn’t be possible, could it?

“Cerb, how long has this been going on for?”

“About a month and a half?”

So about five or six weeks. “Z, could that be possible?”

_>>I… I don’t know. Cerberus has alien DNA, so that may have had some influence…>>_

“That sounds- okay, Zeta, run a full set of vital signs. Look for any abnormalities, indicating illness.” Carolina and Cerberus both looked to her in alarm, while she just smiled weakly. “We need to eliminate every other possible cause of your symptoms before I hazard a guess.”

The Director narrowed his eyes, giving her a flat look behind his glasses. “What do you think it is, Agent?”

The medic let out a loud breath, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know? Well, I can make a few guesses, but- well-“ She shook her head, a little stumped. “Z? Anything?”

The little AI reappeared, shaking his head.

_>>Everything is within normal parameters. Nothing indicates an infection through an external source, and there is no indication of viral or bacterial infection. This is the same for fungal, protozoa and worm-based infections.>>_

_Ah. Hm. _That was both good and bad. Good because it meant that Cerberus wasn’t infected with anything, but bad since they either: didn’t know what the cause was or; knew the cause and _really _didn’t want to acknowledge it. The medic sighed. This was going to be a fucking weird day, wasn’t it?

Everyone was looking at West with various stages of confusion, so she motioned for Cerberus to lie flat on the floor. He did so, with several mystified looks, which just escalated when West began probing his abdomen. She couldn’t feel anything abnormal but _did_ notice a small lump below his belly button. Grabbing her stethoscope, she placed the earpieces in before feeling around the area where she had felt the lump. It took a few minutes, but she eventually located what sounded like a hummingbird’s wings, with what seemed to be an echo?

She sat back on her knees, pulling the stethoscope out of her ears. She’d have to do a few more tests – Cerberus was far more along than a normal human, but this wasn’t normal, was it?

West looked up to see everyone staring at her. Giving Cerberus an awkward smile and a hand to stand up, she turned back to the Director to see that he had already come to the same conclusion that West had, with his wide eyes and unfiltered shock.

“Uh, congrats? Cerb’s pregnant with twins.”

You could hear a pin drop, or Cerberus’s slightly uneven breathing.

West pressed her lips into a thin line, waiting for someone to say something. Everyone seemed to be frozen in place, and as West eyed Cerberus, she worriedly noticed that he was turning quite pale. She reached out to steady Cerberus, just in case he collapsed or fainted, and with her help, he sunk into the chair he had previously been sitting in.

The medic glanced at the Director, who was showing the most surprise that she had even seen on him. He was watching Cerberus closely, a look of concern on the man’s lined face, and he seemed to be thinking about what to do. West figured that was understandable, considering the situation.

“I’m… ah, well, I’m not _entirely_ sure-“

“You’re not sure?!” Cerberus burst out, looking just mildly panicked. His colour had returned to normal though, which was a good sign.

“-how this happened, but I’ll need to do a few more tests.” She paused, thinking. “How the hell is this even possible? He doesn’t have female reproductive organs!” Although that last part was more spoken to herself. _What the fuck was even going on?!_

“Are you sure?” The Director was beginning to look as panicked as Cerberus and Carolina, who still appeared frozen in shock. When West glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, he repeated himself. “Are. _You_. **_Sure_**.”

The medic nodded. “Well… unless you have another explanation for two heartbeats in Cerb’s abdominal cavity, then I’m pretty sure.”

“But I didn’t meet any aliens!” Cerberus was staring at the ground, at his clenched hands, before he looked up suddenly at the medic. “Or, at least, not like the aliens Tucker met! I’ve only ever-“

He cut off suddenly, clamping his mouth shut before shaking his head violently. West ran a gloved hand through her hair, which was becoming progressively pulled from her ponytail.

“_Cerb_,” West gave him a look, “You’ve been having unprotected sexual intercourse?”

The Agent shook his head, again, turning an impressive shade of red. “Nope. No. Not discussing this.”

The medic sighed. If she had to take a guess, she had a slight feeling that she knew _exactly_ who Cerb had started a relationship with. “Ah, jeez. The foetus’ have a human father. How is this even possible?”

“Cerberus. You’ve been in a relationship with Agent Maine, haven’t you?” The Counsellor, having been standing silently in the corner of the room for the entire fucking conversation, decided to offer his input. Cerberus just squeaked, shaking his head while staring determinedly at the ground, although his tomato-red face gave his answer away. Everyone else in the room collectively sighed. West was just trying to wrap her head around the _anatomical nightmare_ that the situation was presenting. Zeta was giving both her and himself a headache.

How was this even _possible_? Men didn’t have any way of carrying a child, and Cerberus was a definitive male, based on what she had been able to read in his medical file. How did two embryos get into his abdominal cavity anyway? And how the hell was Cerberus able to produce two ova? How would they be delivered? Would they have to perform a C-section? Would he carry the foetus’ to term? Did they have a placenta? Separate _embryonic sacs_? What the honest to god _fuck. _

West sat down heavily in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. There were far too many questions this whole situation raised. She then shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Once she did some tests, she’d be able to answer a few of her own questions. Standing up, West turned to face the Director. “I know that you would rather not have people know that Cerberus is back on the Mother of Invention, but I need to take him back to Recovery. We have an ultrasound and other equipment that we can use to figure out how to deal with this situation.”

The Director was staring at Cerberus, expression unreadable, but he glanced up to nod briefly at West. _Oh, shit, this was bad. The Director was **agreeing** with her!_ “I… wasn’t expecting this outcome,” He pressed his lips together, into a thin line, before he resumed speaking, “You may take Cerberus to Recovery. Cerberus, you will remain in Recovery until Agent West has done some more conclusive tests to figure out how we should proceed with this… situation. Carolina, you will escort them and will make sure that news regarding Cerberus’ return is kept _quiet_. This will remain between the five of us, and Agent Maine, when he is told.”

“Uh, sir, Doc and the other medical personnel will have to be notified. While Tucker was pregnant, Doc helped deliver Junior. I do have experience with alien anatomy, but Doc has the most experience in this… area.”

The Director scowled, deeply, before Carolina stepped forwards. “Sir, she’s correct. West, Doc, and the other staff work closely together, so they’ll have to be informed eventually. May as well be now.”

There was a pause before the Director nodded. “I understand. You’ve delivered children before, Agent West?”

The redhead nodded. “Yeah, back home.”

The Director seemed to consider this, before refocusing on West. “We will see if it comes to that. You are dismissed. Take Cerberus to Recovery now, and I want this kept quiet.”

West shared a look with Carolina and Cerberus before she turned back to the man sitting behind the desk.

“Understood.”

The walk back to Recovery was quiet. And slightly awkward, considering the circumstances. Although the walk was quite rushed due to the need to get Cerberus into the med bay quickly, it felt longer than it should have. West was still running over the situation in her head. How was this even _possible_?

It was like something that you might not understand but still had to accept. West felt that, if she didn’t do that, she’d never be able to move past the fact that _Cerberus_, an alien-human hybrid _male_, was _pregnant_. That had happened. She’d heard the heartbeats through her stethoscope. That was _real_.

Until she could run some internal imaging scans – not x-rays, that wasn’t good for the developing children; did they even have an ultrasound unit? Zeta mentally confirmed that yes, they did– she couldn’t be sure, but the only possible thing that she could think of was that maybe_, maybe,_ Cerb had some internal female reproductive organs, and because of this, it was _possible_ that he could produce ova that could be fertilised by human sperm. Well, while it was possible for someone to be born with both female and male sex-characteristics, it was extremely unusual, and they were almost always infertile.

How were they even going to deal with two young alien twins on a military ship? Would Cerb even decide to keep the kids? How would they even terminate the foetus’ if it came to that? Cerberus didn’t have a womb, as far as West knew, so they must have developed somewhere in his abdominal cavity, and the medic didn’t know whether the normal termination drugs would work on someone like Cerberus. Even if Cerb did decide to take the pregnancy to term, they’d probably have to be delivered by caesarean, as, _again_, Cerb didn’t have external female reproductive organs to deliver children by. Bloody hell. This was going to be a _nightmare_.

Either way, West would support Cerberus’ choice to either keep or terminate the twins. It was his body, so if he chose to go through termination, then that was his choice. West glanced at her friend. His head was tilted downwards, and he was staring fixedly at the ground, deep in thought. She could only guess at what was going through his head. She’d never been pregnant before and didn’t exactly have plans on doing that.

The small group was almost back at Recovery, when West spotted Maine waiting outside of the sliding doors. While she couldn’t always understand the massive agent, she could tell that he’d been broken the news; why else would he be loitering outside of their med bay with no visible injuries? He seemed to be rather anxious, as he kept wringing his hands together and pacing next to the door.

The moment that West, Carolina and Cerberus came into view, Maine’s head snapped up, and he immediately rushed over to Cerberus to wrap his arms around the male in comfort. Cerberus wound his arms around his partner’s torso, clinging tightly; West turned to Carolina and nodded towards Recovery’s door. The other redhead nodded, moving to enter the med bay. They’d give the two some privacy before West would conduct Cerberus’s examination.

Almost immediately, West groaned silently, smacking her hand against her forehead. The OD patient! Ugh, she’d entirely forgotten about her! She hoped that Doc and the nurse were alright. Pressing the button to open the door, she stepped inside with Carolina, who gave her a mildly bemused look while raising her eyebrow. West shook her head.

Inside, the OD patient was still prone on the bed, with the nurse sitting next to the still woman. Doc was in the office, head bent down. He was probably filling out the paperwork for their patient. The nurse raised her head as West came in, looking confused and mildly concerned as West strode over to her. Half standing from her chair, she followed the medic into the office with a gesture. Carolina glanced at them briefly but remained standing near the door. West hid her smile as she headed into the office. She tried to remain impassive and to seem unconcerned, but the extreme rigidity gave her away. The agent was worried. It was pretty obvious. 

“West, are you alright?” The nurse moved over to the cot, perching on the end. The medic sighed and ran her left hand through her hair. Doc had swivelled his chair to face the two women.

“Before I tell you guys, the Director made it very clear that this… situation… would not leave the med bay. We’ve got to keep it extremely quiet. Okay?” Both the nurse and Doc nodded, so West continued. “Well… Cerberus is back.”

You could see that information running through their heads as they processed what the medic had just said. A few seconds afterwards, Doc shot to his feet, an expression of shock plastered over his face.

“…Cerberus is back? Since when?!”

West held her hand out to Doc, motioning to the man to sit back in his seat. He did so reluctantly, sinking back into the office chair. “That’s not all,” The medic paused, sighed, before shaking her head, “Doc, nurse, this is going to sound impossible, but Cerb is pregnant… with Maine’s twins.”

Well, she couldn’t say that the silence was unexpected. Both the nurse and Doc stared at the medic in silence, with a vast array of emotions passing between the two of them. After about a minute of confused, suspended silence, Doc eventually spoke up.

“How… how on earth is this possible?”

West shrugged, giving a slightly hysterical laugh. “I have _no fucking idea. _I gave him a primary examination and found two heartbeats in Cerb’s abdominal cavity. I have no idea how this is even _possible_, but that’s what I heard.”

“What are we going to do with them? Terminate the twins?” The nurse’s brow creased as she considered what West had been running through earlier. West shrugged before shaking her head.

“I have no idea. But since we have Junior on board… I think Cerb might choose to keep the twins. But, whatever he chooses, it’s up to him.”

The nurse and Doc sighed, before they both nodded. Either way, they would have to support his decision as the medical personnel on board. The three of them sat and stood in silence until the nurse raised her head and stood suddenly. “I’ve got to take Summer’s vital signs. Excuse me.”

The two medics nodded, and West shifted to the side to let the nurse pass. She moved methodically around the patient’s bed, and West recognised the vacant look in the nurse’s eyes. The vitals were something that all of them could do in their sleep, so doing them mindlessly would allow for the other woman to think about the whole mess they were in.

The redhead shook her head to regather herself. She felt Zeta reassert himself, flickering in front of her eyes to catch her attention. Had he been trying to get her attention?

_>>West? Agent Cerberus is coming in. Do we need the ultrasound unit?>>_

West nodded, moving over to the doorway. “Yes, we do. Sorry Z, my mind was running away from me. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” She scratched the back of her head sheepishly. Zeta’s amusement and latent confusion over the entire situation made her almost laugh out loud.

_>>It is understandable, considering the circumstances. I’ve been getting side-tracked myself. There’s nothing about this in any of the ship’s non-confidential databases.>>_

The medic sighed. That didn’t help. “Thanks for your help, Z. Can you find any explanation for Cerb? Anything in his medical file?”

The AI sighed internally, which West felt brush through her mind like a gentle wind. She could feel his disappointment too, so she could anticipate his answer before he physically spoke it.

_>>No. I was unable to find anything that could help explain this. The majority of his file is confidential.>>_

It was the medic’s turn to sigh, and she turned to the number of medical machines in front of her. They had several machines to help them treat their patients, with some machines seeing more use than others, like the automatic blood pressure machine and the ventilator, but their old, almost obsolete ultrasound unit received almost no use. It hadn’t been until Zeta had notified her that they still had a working one that she had breathed a sigh of relief.

Hopefully they would be able to clear up some of this mess.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!   
Very short chapter this time - the last couple of chapters I've posted have been two or more chapters merged into one to make them longer, but I've almost reached the last chapter of the original story that I posted to my old account. So, after the next chapter, it's all new.  
Anyway, hope everyone is enjoying the story and thank you for reading!  
Catherine (Delirious)

To give Cerberus a bit of privacy from the rest of Recovery, West ushered him and Maine into the office at the end of the room. Carolina attempted to follow them in, but the nurse and Doc called her back out. West shrugged and gave her a tight smile. They’d probably let her know the procedure for pregnant personnel. People would always have sex, regardless of their circumstances. While it was unusual to get a pregnant woman – they tried to provide everyone with protection to use – it did happen from time to time. Of course, Cerberus wasn’t a woman, but, you know, he was still _pregnant_. And they hadn’t had a pregnancy in quite a while; that was probably obvious from the state of the ultrasound machine.

It was quite cramped in the office with a towering Maine and a clearly nervous Cerberus fidgeting near the doorway. West smiled, attempting to reassure, motioning for Cerberus to lie down on the cot in the corner. Maine hovered around him, and when Cerberus was lying down, West went to go fetch the ultrasound unit. It was a cumbersome, dusty machine that took up most of the space next to the cot, leaving West to perch awkwardly near Cerb’s prosthetic legs.

Plugging the machine into the wall socket nearby, West just thanked the designers of the machine for including universal plugs. If they had to find an adaptor for what seemed to be a machine nearly a decade old, she would probably shoot herself in the foot. The medic laughed slightly as she felt Zeta worriedly asking her whether she’d _actually_ do that, shaking her head in response. “It’s a figure of speech, Z, don’t worry.”

Cerberus looked at the woman with wide eyes, watching her movements as she plugged the machine in before booting it up. It gave a low groan, and a slight shudder, but the screen turned from black to black with shifting grey areas swirling across the monitor. She gave a silent sigh of relief. Good. It still worked. It was time to see if she remembered how to use it. Otherwise, she could always get Doc and the nurse to help, but she figured that she’d be able to handle it.

Turning to her friend, she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Have you ever had an ultra sound before, Cerberus?” He shook his head quickly, watching her face carefully. West nodded. She’d figured that that would be the case, considering he was male and not entirely human. Handing him a bottle of water, she instructed him to drink the whole thing while she got the other equipment ready. Getting the gel that would help reduce the friction of the transducer, she slipped her gloves on before motioning Cerberus to lift the hem of his shirt up to his chest. “This might be a bit cold, sorry.”

Smearing the translucent gel over his stomach, she made sure to calibrate the machine so that the transducer was connected properly to the computer. She didn’t want to make an error when doing this, but she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d see. Pressing the transducer to Cerberus’s skin, she glanced over at the machine to check whether she was getting a good, clear image. She was, thankfully, so now she was just having a look around to see if she could find the source of the heartbeats.

It didn’t take the medic long, finding the foetus’ in the lower half of Cerberus’s abdominal cavity. She hadn’t been sure whether she had been correct in diagnosing twins, but now she knew that she was. Two black cavities were showing up on the screen, with two small, circular masses at the bottom of each. Actually, no, that wasn’t correct. When she moved the transducer to the right, the barrier between the two shifted, and after a bit more looking, she was confident that they were in the same amniotic sac. Identical twins.

She couldn’t tell the gender of the two yet, but it was almost guaranteed that they would be the same gender. She also couldn’t tell what the babies looked like, since it was still extremely early. Saying that, based on how long Cerberus had been away, the two were much further along in the pregnancy than compared to a human woman. At this rate, she’d take a guess and say that, rather than the normal nine months, Cerberus would give birth in four or five, possibly less.

West leaned back with a sigh, switching off the machine. That was enough for now. Cerberus and Maine glanced at each other before the sandy-haired agent spoke up. “West? What did you see?”

The medic glanced at the machine briefly before turning her attention to Cerberus, who was sitting there anxiously, fiddling with his hands on the bed. “Well, you’re pregnant. With identical twins, as far as I can tell.”

“As far as you can _tell_?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

Silence reigned as Cerberus fell quiet to process that information. He opened his mouth to talk a few times but closed it quickly. Finally, he shook his head. Glancing up at West, he frowned slightly before moving to sit up. “I want to keep them.”

West nodded. She had a feeling that that was what Cerberus was going to decide. Maine stepped in at that point, growling to his partner, but Cerberus just shook his head. “It’s my choice, Maine. And my body.”

The two locked in a staring competition for a minute before Maine relented and nodded, growling softly. West exhaled, relieved, before tossing Cerberus a towel and standing up. The other agent began wiping the gel off his abdomen, pulling a face. The medic chuckled. “Right. I’m going to go let Carolina and the others the good news.”

Cerberus gave her a confused look. “Aren’t you going to tell the Director?”

West laughed. “Like hell. I’m going to let Carolina do that.”

A few hours later, and things had finally settled down in Recovery. Cerberus was sleeping on the cot in the office; for all his protesting, West had made him promise to get some rest. He looked bloody exhausted, with deep bags under his eyes, and the medic could tell that he desperately needed some sleep. She had to pull the ‘you’re pregnant, so you need to look after the babies’ card, so he finally relented. Maine had hovered for a bit longer, before he reluctantly disappeared to finish up whatever duties that he had been doing before he had rushed over.

Carolina had taken West’s report to the Director and had returned an hour later to say that Cerberus was supposed to stay in the Recovery bay until they could find suitable accommodation for the pregnant agent. West had agreed to Cerberus staying in Recovery; it had been quite a while since she’d seen her friend, and considering his state, she wanted to keep an eye on him. The cyan agent apparently wanted to do the same, lingering around for a little while before, she too, had to head off.

That just left Recovery with West, Doc, nurse, and the sleeping OD patient in one of the end cots. After the nurse had finished up with their questioning, the medics had left her to rest. They’d question her more later when she was more coherent and mobile. West was just stuffing around, Doc was doing paperwork, and the nurse was giving the surgeon an update on Cerberus and Summers. Otherwise, Recovery was quiet, but West had the sneaking suspicion that that wouldn’t last.

Quiet never seemed to last long on this ship.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
So this chapter is a weird mashup of two different versions that I wrote for chapter 38 of the original story. I didn't like how West came across in the original one (I didn't end up posting this particular version, I preferred the other version much more, but I preferred where the plot was going in the un-posted one), but I really enjoyed mashing the two together and writing this chapter. The interactions between each character was a lot of fun to write! It's also past midnight here, but who needs sleep? Totally not me.  
It's all new stuff from here, so get ready for chaos!  
Thank you for reading,  
Catherine (Delirious)

Well, she was right about that.

For a few days, the ship was oddly quiet, with Cerberus splitting his time between the med bay and the Director’s office. She hadn’t heard much, but judging from her friend’s slightly dejected attitude, the two had disagreed on the fate of the twins. Cerberus wanted to keep them. The Director didn’t, maybe? Either way, it seemed that Cerberus had won that argument, as West had received no instruction to terminate the twins. She supposed that was a good sign.

When Cerberus was in Recovery, he spent most of his time receiving information from either Doc or West on how to best take care of himself. He grumbled through the lessons but put up with them. Both medics had explained to him that, to give the twins the best chance of being born correctly, he needed to watch what he ate, how much exercise he did, what he was exposed to, and that there was absolutely _no_ fighting or conflicts. Of course, most of their information came from medical knowledge of human women, but they were doing their best. Some stuff was obvious. Cerberus needed to make sure certain things, like folic acid and iodine, were at healthy levels in his diet, to prevent congenital deformities, and the whole medical crew would need to make sure to minimise his exposure to certain chemicals. They didn’t want to accidentally create major birth defects, so West was going to be _really fucking_ _careful_ about what was being given to Cerberus and what he was exposed to.

There was so much to consider! Since his situation was unique, they’d have to be extremely careful in how they handled his pregnancy. It was going to be roller-coaster ride, start to finish.

That wasn’t the only crazy event that had taken place in the past few days. Annie Summers, their morphine overdose patient, had woken up a few hours after Cerberus’s sonography. West had been sitting in the office, finishing up some of her paperwork for previous patients – updating medical files and the like- before there was a loud crash coming from the next room. The medic was on her feet within a second, rushing out to see the woman, Summers, sprawled out on the floor, tangled in her bedsheets.

Apparently, by the looks of it, she had attempted to get free from her bed, had gotten tangled in the bedsheets, and had ended up on the floor. West just sighed, running over to the nurse to give her a hand. You were supposed to give a little bit of leeway in the bedsheets when making the bed, to stop this thing from happening. She supposed the nurse had tucked the sheets in when making the bed so, if their patient did a runner, she wouldn’t be able to get out.

By the looks of it, it seemed to have worked.

Summers, the patient, had flung a hand out to grab the bedside table when she fell, causing it to fall on top of her. It wasn’t that heavy, just cumbersome, mainly, and she was scrambling to lift it off herself to get up. The nurse and the medic just watched the woman as she stood – _a bit unsteady, falls risk_ – and realised that the two of them were standing there. Confusion, surprise, suspicion and then realisation flickered across her face as Summers took in where she was.

West saw her gaze flicking to the door, then to them, and then to the bed next to her, which was currently boxing her in. Her eyes then darted to the office, where Cerberus had emerged from, to Doc, who had just entered Recovery. _Please don’t do a runner! _“Woah, hey, it’s alright. You were unconscious from a morphine overdose. How are you feeling?”

That question seemed to catch her off guard. She gave a jagged laugh, running her hand through her hair before looking around the room again. The woman seemed to be looking at everything except for West, but eventually, Summers’ eyes landed on the medic. They were bloodshot and slightly glazed. Her pupils were extremely dilated, which West could see from here. _Alright, not great_. “I nearly kill myself with dodgy morphine and you ask if I’m _okay_?”

Everything was extremely still. Okay, they had a slightly unstable woman – who was currently going through _opioid withdrawals_ \- who they wanted to calm down. They’d have to be very delicate in how they handled this. West nodded, slowly. “Of course. It’s our job to look after everyone on board, and when someone isn’t feeling well, we get worried.” She motioned to the bed. “Did you want to sit down? We’ve got some things that can help you.”

Summers seemed to consider this, eyes flicking around again. She had her arms wrapped around herself, with an intermittent tremor that seemed to overtake her whole body every few seconds. Wow. How long had she been addicted to morphine for? She’d barely been up, and she was already exhibiting symptoms.

She nodded, more of a jerk of her head, before sitting down on the side of the bed. West quickly thanked her lucky stars before nodding at the nurse. The other woman quickly hurried over to the drug cabinet to retrieve their small supply of methadone. Methadone was a narcotic painkiller, used to wean heroin addicts off their addiction, but it would have the same effect with morphine. West had made sure to request some in the last restocking of the med bay, in the event of something like this happening.

West sat down opposite the woman, giving her a smile. Summers refused to make eye contact, staring fixedly at the ground. West could understand how she was feeling. Most people refused to get help for addiction out of shame, or social stigma. To West, it was just a medical condition to be treated and hopefully fixed. Giving the woman another smile that she didn’t see, West cleared her throat. “Summers, how long have you been addicted for?”

Stubborn silence. West squashed the need to sigh. “Summers. Annie. I know you don’t want to tell us, but we aren’t here to judge you, and we want to help. This will give us a better idea on how to help you with your addiction and withdrawals. Please?”

Her tremors started up again, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, waging war within herself. After a minute of silence; “Two years.” It was barely more than a whisper, but West smiled.

“Thank you for telling us. That’s a very brave thing to say. Now, what do you want to do?”

Her head jerked up, fixing West with a look of suspicion. “What do you mean?”

West crossed her ankles, leaning back on the bed with her hands. “Well, what do you want to do? Not be addicted? We’re here to help you in the best way that we can, but there’s no point if you don’t tell us what you want us to help you with.”

Summers nodded, refusing to look at West. She also didn’t speak, but West figured that the addiction was the thing Summers wanted help with. With that, the nurse came forwards, brandishing the small bottle of methadone tablets. Summers watched them cautiously, eyes flicking between the two of them. The tremors were back.

“Okay. So, you have one of two options, Annie.” West let the nurse explain this one, since she had the bottle. “The first one is that we can give you a shot of naltrexone; it’s administered once every few weeks and will eventually reduce your opioid – morphine cravings. However, you’ll have to wait up to seven days before we can give it to you, as it will have an adverse effect on the morphine still in your system.”

Summers nodded.

“Option two. This,” The nurse held up the bottle in her hand, “is methadone. It’s like morphine, and we usually give it to people going through opioid withdrawals, like yourself. We can use it to alleviate your symptoms and cravings and will eventually wean you off it. We may have to wait a little bit before giving it to you, but we can give it to you almost immediately. However, there is a risk of you becoming dependent on this, instead of the morphine.”

The third ‘option’ was the patient deciding to quit altogether. Going ‘cold turkey’ was never a good idea for long-term users since the body could react quite violently – both the nurse and the medic had seen it before. It wasn’t entirely uncommon, unfortunately, and with certain drugs such as benzodiazepines and opioids, it could be life-threatening.

The nurse nodded, looking at West. “The methadone is a more immediate solution, but the naltrexone is easier to access and there is no risk of you becoming dependent on it. Do you understand that?”

Summers, instead of understanding, looked rather overwhelmed. She then shook her head, rather frantically. “I… I don’t think I could wait a week- can I have the faster one?”

They both nodded, and when the medic and the nurse shared a glance, could tell that this was the option they were expecting. The nurse handed the bottle over to West, before she disappeared quickly to go grab the paperwork. It had been a little bit forsaken in recent weeks, so the nurse, Doc and she had been slowly fixing everything they had missed. That was the golden rule of treating anyone: _if you didn’t write it down, it didn’t happen. _

A quick glance at the office revealed the nurse and Doc conversing, quietly, with Cerberus perched behind them. The nurse quickly scribbled something down, before hurrying back out, a book in her hands. She handed the scribbled note to West – the proper dosage – before sitting down quietly behind the medic. Z checked the calculations quickly, and making sure that the drug was correct, along with the use-by date, and confident with the accuracy, gave West the go-ahead to begin administering.

They’d have to wean her off the morphine slowly. They’d give her the normal methadone dosage recommended for someone of her age and weight and would observe how she reacted to the drug. If she still had withdrawal symptoms with the methadone, they could give her a slightly higher dosage. They’d have to reduce the dosage slowly over time, to give her body time to adjust. And, since she’d been addicted for so long, her tolerance to opioids was going to be fairly high. They’d need to make sure that the med bay had enough to support her through the transition.

It was going to take a while, but West wanted to make sure that their patient didn’t rapidly deteriorate before questioning her about the drug situation aboard the ship. It wasn’t uncommon for long term drug users to die from their withdrawals. It was honestly as bad as the overdoses, if not worse, due to the long-term complications.

They would also have to keep a close eye on her vital signs while she stayed in Recovery. It wasn’t uncommon for several different things to happen to people going through opioid withdrawal – high blood pressure, shaking, anxiety, insomnia, amongst other things - all of which would not help their already anxious patient.

When West was happy that Summers had taken the methadone and had not suddenly gone south, she retreated with the nurse into the office to finish their paperwork. They could see her from inside the room, anyway, and she was lying back down on her bed, trying to rest. It was unlikely she would fall back asleep, but as long as she stayed here, where they could keep an eye on her, then West was happy.

“West.” The nurse sighed as they closed the door. “We _can’t_ let the Director know that she’s awake. She’s in no state to be interrogated about this, and I’m worried that, considering how delicate she is-“ The woman broke off, shaking her head. “I doubt she’d survive it.”

The redhead nodded, silently. She then sighed, and sat down on the bed next to Cerberus, who was watching the conversation curiously. “Yeah, I agree. Let’s try keep it quiet for now, but…” The medic sighed again, staring off into space, “I doubt that’ll last.”

Which brought them back to now. West and the other medical personnel had done their best to shield their already fragile patient from the Director and the Counsellor- she’d ended up approaching Carolina and explaining the situation, asking her to keep them in the dark for as long as possible. The cyan agent had been hesitant; in part for being asked to lie to her commanding officers, but she had understood their reasoning and had agreed to delay them for as long as she could. West wasn’t going to question Carolina’s decision- her relationship with the Director already seemed very tense, based in mistrust and suspicion, which the medic suspected was from Carolina’s concern about Cerberus’s treatment amongst other things. She’d debrief with the agent later.

As such, they’d managed to keep the Director and the Counsellor away from Recovery for a few days, managing to schedule Cerberus’s check-in with the two in either the Counsellor or Director’s offices. If either thought this was strange, they didn’t comment; Cerberus had agreed to keep quiet as well.

They’d also quietly spread the news amongst the other agents in their group – some were more upset than others at the delay. After a bit of arguing – and no small amount of threatening, thanks Tex!- the normally loud Reds and Blues had agreed to keep quiet. West had informed them and the Freelancers that she would let them know as soon as possible if she found something useful, but considering the state of her patient, wouldn’t be any time soon. It sucked, but she needed to make sure Annie was safe. At the moment, that was her priority.

Everything else had been rather quiet, as much as she hated to use the word- there were no new drug overdoses and no new leads surfacing, with the number of patients filtering through Recovery matching their predicted scores. It was what they would expect on a normal day, which made West nervous. Not that she was expecting the worse, but _still. _

How long would it be before the storm broke?

West was bustling around Recovery, having checked Annie’s vital signs and was now finding stuff to mind the time. It had been a little while since she’d checked in with everyone else- it was the fourth day in a row with Annie’s vitals holding steady and showing no sign of plummeting, which pleased the medic. It showed that the patient was responding to their treatment, and with any luck, she’d be in a headspace in which they could question her. She was slowly relaxing in the company of the medics, giving them her trust gradually in response to their efforts; the woman seemed to realise the danger she was in, even if they hadn’t briefed her, and appeared grateful, participating in her treatment fully.

West truly believed she wanted to get better; it was a good sign, and with any luck, she’d soon trust them enough to share what she knew- any guidance on what to do was better than none.

Humming as she tidied up some stray equipment, she moved across Recovery with a practised grace, absentmindedly sidestepping cots and tables. Her mind was wandering as she cleaned, straying from the current situation to the _other _one- It had been a while since she’d spoken to Erith about her investigation, and she wanted to check in with the other agent; the woman sent her updates on her progress under the guise of keeping her updated on her healthcare- the messages let her know she was okay and not under any suspicion.

West wanted to tell the others. She really did. But if this was as bad as they thought it was, then they’d need proof, _evidence, _before they could put the Director away. And if he was as dangerous as they suspected, then not knowing anything would keep their friends _safe._

Even so, she wanted their advice. She wanted Wash’s reassurance, North’s compassion and York’s dry humour. She wanted Tex’s fierce drive, Nebraska’s cheerful optimism and Carolina’s guidance. Although she didn’t know the Reds and Blues as well as her Freelancers, they mattered too- they were _all _affected. Fuck. How was she going to deal with this?

Her hands had stilled over a wayward packet of gauze, trembling. This felt so fucking _isolating. _Erith was doing her best, but what if they got everyone to help? From what she’d observed, _everyone_ was tense and defensive around the two- something set off major warnings whenever the pair spoke. They’d be able to get enough evidence to put Freelancer in the ground. But what if people disagreed and they were reading into this wrong? Carolina – as team leader – was closest to the Director. She displayed the most loyalty to the man, although that link did seem shaky at the best of times, especially when it involved people she cared about.

If anything, Cerberus would be the hardest to convince. From what Carolina had told her, the other agent had been raised by the Director. He’d grown up knowing nothing else. That sort of upbringing and loyalty would be hard to break. Unless his ties with the rest of them – especially Carolina and Church – were stronger, and he’d stand with them.

Fuck. She was so _uncertain. _Feeling like this was fucking horrible.

Shaking her head, she refocused on her cleaning, attempting to clear her thoughts. Getting into a shitty headspace wouldn’t help them, especially since she needed to protect her patient and track down the whole mess with the drugs. With any luck-

The door to Recovery opened.

He must’ve been here to see Cerberus, who was currently lounging in the office, but as he strode across the room, he drew his attention to the two of the them. Annie was sitting up in her bed, reading; she hadn’t noticed the man standing a few meters away.

Shit. _No. No no **no**! Not **now**! _Her thoughts immediately spiralled as a cold dread overtook her frozen body, Zeta starting to panic in response to her own frantic thought. _Oh no._

“Agent West Australia. Why wasn’t I informed that,” He scowled at the woman on the bed, motioning to her with a sharp wave of his hand, “had woken up?”

She wasn’t wearing her helmet. It had taken her too long to control the emotion splayed across her face, and with a cold realisation, she understood that he’d _realised_. It was at that point, he’d realised she’d lied to his face- had probably gotten the others to lie for her. _She was so dead. _

Still, she had to _try. _She wasn’t naïve enough to think she’d be able to convince him but fuck it.

Not like she could make anything worse. _Let’s give it a shot._

“Sir, she only woke up just recently. She needs to undergo treatment for morphine withdrawal.”

Having those stern, cold, aqua-green eyes fixed on her was never a pleasant experience. It was all she could do not to wince or retreat. Annie was _her _patient, and this man would kill her. She was absolutely certain of that. She needed to _fight_. “Carolina had informed me that she was the only, current, lead that your operation has, and that she was still currently _unconscious_. May I ask why one of my best agents _lied _to me about a frankly serious matter that needs to be resolved?”

West bit back a sharper remark in favour of saying, “The patient is currently undergoing treatment for opioid addiction. She’s in a very fragile state. We figured that if we waited for her to regain her strength, you would have better… results.”

The medic didn’t dare to look away from those piercing eyes, but she could see Annie in her periphery, frantically glancing from her to the Director, before fixing her pleading gaze on West. The woman was clearly terrified of the man, who hadn’t acknowledged her apart from his initial entrance. West got the very distinct feeling that to him, she was worthless. Only good for information. _This man will **kill** her._

The Director scowled, before he began moving towards the back office. “Suspend all treatment until she cooperates. And move her to the brig.”

“What?! No! She needs treatment! She might die otherwise!” West’s enraged outburst apparently fell on deaf ears, as the Director continued stalking towards the office. He turned, briefly, before entering, to shoot a deadly gaze towards the medic. It pulled her up short, ice crawling down her spine.

It took her all her energy not to flip him off, instead turning to squeeze Annie’s hand briefly in a small gesture of comfort before moving to the hallway.

She needed to call Doc, the nurse, _someone who could help. _

Who, though? The Director’s word was final. Nothing would change his mind. Turning away from Recovery, she flicked a quick message to Doc – he was elsewhere on the ship - before she turned a corridor and slumped against the wall.

_“Hello- West? Is everything okay?” _Erith’s tinny voice rang through her radio as she opened a comms line. The woman gave a jagged laugh.

“So, you know how we’ve been trying to protect our OD patient from the Director?”

Silence fell. _“He found out.”_

Pressing a hand to her forehead, she swore, mostly to herself. “Yeah. _Yeah. _He found out. He’s suspended all treatment until she _talks_. Her withdrawal symptoms will kill her before that happens. Its- fuck- this is so messed up!”

_“Is there anything you can do?”_

“No.”

_“Have you told anyone else?”_

“Doc. He’ll tell the nurse.”

_“Okay. West, I know you want to protect your patient, but you need to be **really careful**. If he knows that you lied to him- got everyone **else **to lie to him- then you need to tread really fucking carefully.” _Her voice broke off, the sound of typing coming through the radio, before she sighed. _“I’m gonna check up on some things. I’ll get back to you when I can. Be **careful, **West. Erith out.”_

Silence fell. West pushed herself up from the wall, thoughts spiralling.

_>>West, focus on your breathing. **Count.** One.>>_

Zeta’s smooth voice broke through her panic. Yep. Yeah. Okay. She needed to get this under control. Following his instructions, she worked through her normal breathing exercises, and within a couple minutes, she was breathing a little easier. Right.

She needed to get back to Recovery. Moving back down the corridor, she swore as she caught sight of a bunch of soldiers entering the med bay. They didn’t look injured. Intercepting them at the door, they let her pass, although she felt a few glaring at her from behind their visors.

Heading straight for Annie, she scanned the room. The Director was gone, even though it had been a quick visit, Cerberus probably leaving with him. The woman in question was looking at her, fucking _terrified, _as the three soldiers entered Recovery. West stood her ground as they approached.

The leader, a man she didn’t recognise, was projecting disapproval and aggression through his body language- probably reflecting her own. When he jerked his head to the side- a clear signal for her to move- she just raised an eyebrow and planted her feet. _No. _

They’d apparently been warned about this, moving to surround the bed. West backed up as best she could, trying to block them, but shit. It was three against one, and she wasn’t going to hurt their own soldiers. Probably.

She realised that they hadn’t gotten the same briefing, with two of the men moving to pin _her, _with the third hauling up her patient. Fuck! If she fought – like, properly – she’d likely end up dead or fucking court-marshalled for killing three stupid soldiers. Even trying to repel them, she tried to pull her hits, so they incapacitated, rather than severely injured. These guys weren’t Freelancers, but they obviously didn’t care if they hurt either of them.

Managing to get two good, strong punches in, she forced one guy to back off, before the other snuck past her defence and punched her _hard_. It sent her crashing against the bed, swearing, and she rolled back with the hit, trying to absorb most of the momentum and impact. She had limited vision in her left eye due to the scarring, leaving a massive blind spot. Zeta was compensating, but fuck. There wasn’t much she could do.

Breaking the leader’s visor with her knee probably wasn’t smart, but it gave her a sick satisfaction to see the blood gushing from his nose and facial lacerations. He snarled, reaching for his weapon, before-

“WEST! STOP!”

She froze. Annie was held by the third guard, hand gripping her left arm painfully, looking between them frantically. The other two froze at the yell, moving out of reach. The woman looked bloody terrified but held herself up. “West, don’t. I’ll go with them.”

“Annie-“

The woman shook her head. “It’s- it’s not worth it. Please? Stand down?”

But, she- didn’t she realise that this could _kill her? _

_I think she does. Look at her. She’s terrified. _

_You protected her. She’s trying to protect you, West. Let this fight **go. **_

_It’s not worth it. You’re already in enough shit. Fuck, why was this so** hard-**_

_We’re not giving up, just biding our time. Be patient. _

She didn’t know which thoughts belonged to her, and which belonged to Zeta, but they were right. They weren’t going to win this fight, not now. She didn’t _want _to back down-

She didn’t have a choice. _Stand **down.**_

Dropping her fists, she wiped at the blood trickling from a cut in her lip, swiping her tongue across it. Giving her dirtiest glare towards the other soldiers – the one with the bloodied face spat blood and saliva at her with a nearly feral growl- she watched helplessly as they began dragging Annie towards Recovery's entrance.

They were gone within a minute.

The silence had never sounded so loud.


	31. Chapter 31

Shit. _Shit. _This wasn’t good.

She was still in Recovery, icepack pressed to her jaw, pacing between the cots. Her rage had died, although not fully; it was remaining at a low simmer but could easily flare up again. How _dare _they! Those absolute-

West was sorely tempted to break something. Maybe those soldiers. She was _really_ fucking tempted. Growling to herself, she began to pace again, not after staring murderously at the doorway.

_>>West, you need to remain as calm as possible. This anger is not going to help, especially not Annie.>>_

A burst of anger spiked at Z’s words before it quickly died. _Shit, I’m sorry Z, I didn’t mean to flare up at you. _She felt his understanding flow against her, forgiving her as she agreed with the sentiment. He was right. Getting angry like this wasn’t going to help her or her patient. She needed to calm _down._

Okay, she needed to sort her thoughts out. Her patient, Annie, was an intravenous drug user and was addicted to morphine. She had overdosed in the showers and was now receiving treatment for her addiction and was being managed with methadone. This event led to the discovery of a distribution schedule that her patient was involved in. The Director had found out and was withholding treatment until she started talking, and she had gone, _willingly, _in order to protect West from being seriously hurt. At this point, she would start going into opioid withdrawals unless she received some form of treatment. There was a very good chance that this would kill her.

She’d never asked about Annie’s side of the story. What if she’d been dragged into dealing because of her addiction? _But, on the other hand, what if she chose to do it willingly? If she was **willingly **endangering people by **stealing and dealing essential drugs-**_

_Alright, **enough.**_

Taking a deep breath – it made her wince slightly due to the forming bruise, already turning an ugly shade of purple-blue – she sat down on the nearest bunk with a heavy thud. Time to give herself a stern talking to.

_Annie is your **patient**. Regardless of what she has or hasn’t done, she has a right to quality, lifesaving care. You are making too many assumptions about the situation, without all the information. She really did seem like she wanted to get better and was fully participating in her care. That tells me that there is a good chance that it wasn’t her **choice **to get dragged into this mess, but again, you don’t have all the information. She is still your patient, and she tried to protect you from getting hurt. _

_That’s gotta count for something._

By the end of her internal monologue, she was feeling a little bit more centred, a little more settled, and a lot less likely to punch a hole through someone. That was… good. She needed to keep a clear head, to think. What the _hell _was she going to do?

Well, that would depend on Annie, wouldn’t it? Was she prepared to tell the Director’s men about the operation, or would she deny it? Who knew what those soldiers would do to her- _shit_. This was a mess.

_>>I think we should get the others to help.>>_

Zeta appeared directly in front of her, solemn. West had felt him mulling things over, working out strategies and testing out situations, how scenarios would play out. She could feel his fear – his fear for her, for their patient, their friends. But she could also feel his resolve- he wanted to protect his operator, just as much as she wanted to protect him, as well as all the friends they’d made.

Out of everything, that was what got to her.

She wasn’t someone who cried very often- she was in so many shitty situations so often that the medic usually pushed her emotions aside to focus. West _knew _that wasn’t healthy. It was an almost dissociate coping mechanism, which were rather unhelpful in the long-term scheme of things. However, the only form of mental health counselling on the ship was the fucking Counsellor, and like _hell _she was going there.

The medic had seen a psychologist back on earth – just a third party to vent to, to offload all the horrible shit that she encountered in her day-to-day job. Her psych had told her – “Often, when we suppress our emotions, or refuse to acknowledge them or work through them, they’ll go away. However, if you do that for a long time, they often rebound, worse than ever.”

She supposed that was happening now, sitting on one of the beds in Recovery, bawling her eyes out. All the stress of the recent weeks, the fear, the isolation, the _anger; _it had bubbled over, and all she could do was cry.

Zeta sat with her, quietly, as she moved from full blown crying – the sort with snot and tears running freely – to quiet sniffles, and then to measured breaths as she got herself back under control. His presence wasn’t overbearing; he was letting her know that he was there, without invalidating her feelings, helping her move out of the strong emotions in her own time. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt an overwhelming gratitude for her AI and it wouldn’t be the last.

Wiping her gloves across her nose, she started to clean her face up, touching her AI port gently to thank Z- a benefit of sharing a headspace was that they could read each other’s emotions. No need for messy words, and she was grateful. Standing up, she moved to get a box of tissues. Catching sight of her face in the nearest mirror, she winced; it wasn’t pretty. Red, puffy eyes, a red, raw looking nose, an ugly, blossoming bruise on her jaw- damn.

“West?”

_Ah, shit. _She’d been hoping to clean herself up a bit more before anyone else came into Recovery. Turning towards the entrance, she found Wash and Doc standing just within the doorway. She could see the instant Doc noticed her injury; his gaze sharpened, trained on her jaw, her eyes, experience noting superficial injuries and making an assessment – she did the same thing with everyone. Wash’s gaze went sharp as he saw her jaw, and he tensed, as if expecting a fight.

_Please don’t ask me if I’m okay, I’ll probably start crying again. _

Doc started forwards, concern written across his face, before he stopped, gaze flicking to the bunk. Realisation overtook his face, with an underlying current of anger, but it was smothered as he looked back to her. “What happened? I got your message – are you okay?”

_Fuck! _“I’m- they took- fuck-“ Sitting down heavily, she glared at the ground, face contorting as the tears started again. Why couldn’t she just fucking _stop! _

Wash looked out of his depth, but Doc sighed, picking up the tissues and sitting across from West, covering her hand with his own. Sitting quietly, he waited as she started to get herself back under control. After a second of uncertainty, Wash sat down gently next to her, touching her other hand hesitantly. She slumped against him, accepting the contact. She really wanted a hug.

With the two of them sitting with her, West managed to calm herself down, faster than before. Wiping her eyes and her nose again, she blew into the tissue, scrunched it up, and closed her eyes, wanting to disappear for the moment. She was still leaning against Wash, who’d wrapped an arm around her for support, but he dropped it as she sat up.

Looking up, she locked eyes with Doc before opening her mouth- “Don’t you _dare_ apologise for crying, West. We’re your friends. You don’t need to apologise.”

West gave a snort, giving a small smile. “Right. I won’t apologise then. But… thanks. For sitting with me. I really appreciate it.” She glanced at Wash, who gave her a reassuring smile in return. Doc mirrored his expression.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” Wash was still sitting close but had pulled back a little to see her face. She nodded, and he smiled. “If you don’t mind me asking- what happened?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Well, the Director found out about Annie. He ordered her treatment for her addiction to be withheld until she talked. She got taken to the brig by some soldiers.”

Doc gave a significant look to the bruise on her jaw. “Let me guess- you tried to stop them.”

“What gave it away?” She gave him a wry smile while Wash snorted. He nodded to the blood on the floor, where the first soldier had spat it at her.

“I’m guessing that’s not yours?”

“Nah. I broke one guy’s visor.” Feeling the rage flare, she gave them a sharp, almost feral grin. “He’s going to need stitches,” Her grin faded, and she sighed, “I wasn’t going to hurt them, but they used a hell of a lot more force than they should’ve. I’m guessing they were told to expect some _resistance.” _Sneering that last part, she locked eyes with Doc, whose own gaze had darkened considerably. “We need to make sure she gets her medication. There’s a good chance she’ll die if she doesn’t. I’m not sure the Director won’t just let her die once we get that intel.”

Doc nodded, exhaling. “Is there a chance that he’ll give her back?”

The lack of a response from any of them just reinforced their answer. Fuck. Wash sighed, next to her, scrubbing his face wearily. The medic wasn’t the only one being affected by all of this. “I reckon we need to call everyone together and let them know what’s happened. Carolina kept the Director in the dark about your patient, and while I’m sure he’s got other things to be worrying about, I doubt he’ll let _Carolina _lying to him, go. Once we get everyone together, we can decide on a course of action.”

“I’ll let the Reds and Blues know. Where can we meet? This should stay _very far _under the radar. If the Director finds out how many of us were involved- now, I’m not saying that we should listen to him! Just that we need to be careful. There’s no point dragging everyone down with us if the Director and Counsellor find out what we’re doing.” Doc had sat up straighter, eyes sparking with determination.

“Actually, I might know a place- Tucker and I found it when we were trying to find someplace-“ When West and Doc whipped around to stare at Wash, he broke off with a tell-tale blush beginning to spread from his ears across his face. West grinned. When had _this _happened? He shoved at West's shoulder, being the nearest person to him. “Not like that- we aren’t- oh my god. _Anyways.”_

West snickered, bolstered by the lingering blush that was slowly dominating Wash’s face. He shook his head, exasperated, before continuing. “We found an old supply room. It took a bit of work to get in there, but I don’t think anyone asides from us know about it. It should fit the Reds, Blues and Freelancers. It’ll do the job.”

Doc caught her eye, and they nodded. “That sounds good. Doc, if you tell Tucker to get the Reds and Blues, he can lead them there. Tell them to try get there _quietly, _please?” She sighed, knowingly at the look on Doc’s face, but shrugged. “I _know, _but we can’t have anyone know about this.”

The purple medic sighed, forlornly, but nodded. “Alright. This is going to be difficult to coordinate. They don’t listen to me on the best of days.”

“Do your best, Doc. Wash and I can go fetch the Freelancers. When should we meet?” West looked to Wash, who frowned.

Turning to the clock at the end of the room, he narrowed his eyes. “It’s nearing dinner. What about midnight? There should be guard changeovers, so they’ll be fewer people around. Gives us time to get everyone ready and plenty of time to discuss stuff. That sound okay?”

All three nodded. West smiled, hopeful. “Okay, that sounds good. Doc, did you want to go spread the word? It might be better in person, so there isn’t an electronic trail. Wash, you and I can go find the others.” She tapped at the datapad on the bed near her, messaging the nurse. A message pinged almost instantly back, letting the medic know that the nurse was on her was back to Recovery. She’d hold down the fort while they were out and about.

West stood, the others following suit. “Let’s get going.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> Sorry about the delay in chapters, it's been a bit hectic here with my work and volunteering and all that, so I haven't had much time to write. I'm also really bloody tired, so if there are any mistakes in this, whoops, deal with it.  
I also wanted to say that I am writing about fairly intense topics in regards to mental health - although I don't go into much detail, I feel like it is important to address these themes. 
> 
> When I'm writing about trauma and the impact on mental health, I'm trying to write the characters in a way that I feel is realistic, whilst also making sure that I explain and address the issues appropriately. Predominately, I am writing from my own experiences with mental health, trauma, and therapy, and while I like to think I have a good degree of knowledge on the subject, I am not a psychologist. Nursing student and EMT, yep! But not a psych. 
> 
> While there isn't much discussion about this in this particular chapter, it is likely that these themes will pop up in later chapters - my character, West, doesn't have particularly good coping mechanisms, and I'd like to explore her shift into addressing her own trauma and developing better coping mechanisms. 
> 
> Woo! That was a bit of a rant! Again, I am really fucking tired, so if this is incomprehensible garbage, have fun! (Oh, a side note - North and South's interactions are based on the conversations between two friends of mine; brother and sister, both studying nursing. You can image the chaos! I always hope I do the characters justice.)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks, 
> 
> Catherine (Delirious)

It wouldn’t be hard to find the Freelancers. It would be more difficult to talk to everyone discreetly. Wash and West had figured that the best way to talk to everyone would be at dinner, since most of their crew would be there, although West was a tad worried about who might overhear their conversation.

Honestly? When the pair got to the mess, the medic realised that there was so much chaos and noise that no-one would pay any attention to a couple of Freelancers conversing between themselves before splitting off to chat with the different offshoots at the table. Most of the soldiers on the Mother of Invention treated the Freelancers with a sort of reverence- one that left them isolated from the main group of soldiers while they observed and talked and gossiped about them from afar. Normally, behaviour like this made West feel like she was placed on a pedestal, but today she was grateful. It would make spreading the message between her friends a lot easier.

The mess hall was overflowing with its normal brand of organised chaos, tables constantly being occupied and vacated as soldiers came and went, chatting with their squadmates, their friends; the Freelancer’s table – and by extension, the Reds and Blues table – were viciously guarded, and as a result, their squad always had a place to sit. It was always given a wide berth by the other soldiers, although whether this was from a mix of reverence, awe or fear, it was hard to tell. Still, it made picking out the heads at the table much easier, with the medic counting seven people.

Rather than making a beeline for their table, Wash and West had decided to get some food, the line parting for the two Freelancers with the normal speed. All in all, getting their food took less than five minutes, and West was placing her tray carefully down next to South while Wash settled down next to York. They received a chorus of greetings, with most of their friends going back to their previous conversations as they ate. South nudged West’s side with her elbow, nodding towards her face.

“What happened? Someone gave you a pretty good shiner.” The blonde raised an eyebrow before she smirked, grinning. “Did you win?”

North snorted from across the table while West gave a wry smile. Her face was getting rather puffy and it felt like the drugs were starting to wear off. Ow. “Really, South, that’s the first thing you ask? Not, ‘are you okay,’ or ‘is your jaw alright?’”

The agent gave him the finger, with a huff from her brother, who rolled his eyes while giving West and exasperated smile. “Why not? It’s a valid question. So West. How does the other guy look?”

“Well, I broke his visor with my knee. I might have broken his nose?” Her voice pitched up at the end while South gave her a scrutinising look before laughing. The medic shrugged. “There was a lot of blood.”

“Shit, West. I thought you were supposed to be the medic?” North’s voice was teasing, although his gaze grew worried as the medic fell silent, smile sliding off her face. “West?”

The redhead sighed, collecting herself. “I need to talk to everyone. Doc, Wash and I are gonna get everyone together tonight. Can you guys come?”

There was a beat of silence before: “Shit, yeah, of course. What time?” and “Is everything alright?”

She loved her friends. The medic nodded and gave them both a grateful smile. “Yeah, it’s a bit… sensitive. We need to talk privately. Without the chance of people… listening in.” They both nodded, South looking suspicious and North looking concerned, letting out a small, knowing ‘ah’.

Glancing over to Wash, she saw him conversing quietly with York, who was nodding solemnly. Erith, Tex and N – that wasn’t a group she was expecting, wow – were sitting at the end of the table, occasionally glancing up towards them. Carolina, Cerberus and Maine were all missing- Wash was probably enlisting York’s help in finding Carolina, and the medic wasn’t sure whether they were approaching Maine or Cerberus yet.

Turning back to the twins, she leant in a little, the other two mirroring her posture. Speaking quietly, she relayed their meeting point and time. “Okay, so we’re meeting Wash and the others at the entrance to the cargo hold – the old section with all the useless crap, not the one with the alien tech- at half twelve. South, could you tell them?” She nodded towards Erith and Tex, who were watching silently as N chattered on besides them. South raised an eyebrow but shrugged, turning towards the women, who leant in to listen.

“Why all the cloak and dagger?” North was still looking at her, brows drawn down in concern, worry. Realisation dawned in his eyes a moment later as he tracked something behind her left shoulder. By the way his face became guarded, carefully neutral, West guessed that the Counsellor had come to keep an eye on them. Great. Had he come to harass her because of that other soldier’s face? “Ah. Something’s happened.”

Tex’s gaze had hardened, sharpening as she looked at West’s face, noting the bruising. Erith caught her eye, giving a questioning tilt of her head, before nodding to the lurking Counsellor. West nodded slightly in return, and the other agent sighed, turning back to the conversation. N appeared concerned but nodded enthusiastically when spoken to. Seemed like they were all in. A quick glance at Wash and York saw the two still talking, although York gave her a small, tired smile as their eyes met. Guess he was in too.

How was Doc going? A quick scan of the tables around her revealed no sign of the purple medic, although she could spot a couple members of their crew sitting and chatting – Donut was chatting in his normally energetic manner to Caboose, who was nodding along sagely, while Grif and Simmons conversed between themselves in their normally conflictive manner – Grif was actively attempting to steal the food off of Simmons’ plate, with the maroon agent giving him a withering look while hitting at his hands, forcing him back. Donut was angled towards her, a table or two away, so they locked eyes for a moment as he was talking, his smile softening slightly as he gave her a short nod. Ah, Doc and Donut were close, weren’t they? The medic must have enlisted his help. Giving a brief smile back, she turned back to her own squad, slipping back into the conversation that had cropped up while her attention had been elsewhere.

South was giving her brother some shit about their last training session, while North just rolled his eyes and gave her shit right back, referring to something when the two were younger, much to her indignant spluttering. The three at the end of the table had been drawn into the conversation, with Tex watching with a wry smile, N laughing along, and Erith making a dry comment about how they were both full of shit. York jutted in with his own smartass comment, Wash snorting into his drink next to him, prompting a coughing fit that led to York slapping on his back, almost sending the man headfirst into the table as he thumped on his own chest. West laughed at the scene, folding the familiar chaos around her like a safety blanket, warmth curling in her chest.

This was something she was determined to protect.

It was nearing midnight when she slipped out of Wash’s room – they’d both agreed that West was probably being monitored by the Director and Counsellor, and Recovery and her room were probably being watched – with the blonde man falling into step next to her. They’d spent the past few hours talking about the entire situation – how Annie had been taken, the situation with the drug overdoses and dealings, how the Director was handling the situation with Cerberus and West, and West’s concerns about the ethical implications of his behaviour. Wash had been shocked, initially, but after listening to West explain her concerns, about what Erith had said about CT – his gaze had darkened then, an old anger and regret, but slowly cleared as it was folded away and hidden – and her own investigation into the Director and his actions, his surprise had faded into a weary but resigned expression that made him look far older than he had any right to appear.

He’d come forwards with his own concerns, then, about how the Counsellor treated him in his private sessions– how Wash felt like shit afterwards, all his faults laid bare, all mistakes used as a weapon to beat him down, wear him down mentally – and how unnerved he felt around the two. This had been going on for a long time, since the start of the Project, but Wash hadn’t shared his concerns with any of the other agents. The amount of distrust and hate they were trying to instil in the Freelancers made the blonde agent wary of approaching anyone else. West supposed that was the point. Keep everyone divided emotionally, and it would be far easier to control their squad.

Of course, they hadn’t discussed anything in specific terms. Considering who they worked for, West wouldn’t be surprised if there was surveillance in all their rooms, in some form or another. Zeta hadn’t reported any remote listening devices or anything abnormal, but West still turned off anything capable of recording- like Wash’s data pad. You couldn’t be too careful.

But now the two agents were heading to their agreed meeting point. West wanted to get there early- she was pretty fucking nervous about the whole thing. How would everyone – especially Carolina – react to her news? She’d ended up crossing paths with Erith after dinner, the other agent catching her on the way out and asking about their plan; the medic had explained quickly that they needed to tell everyone what was happening. What she’d found, investigating the Director.

West was sure that everyone felt similar, if not the same, as Wash. Personally, West had avoided the Counsellor’s sessions like the plague, wary of giving the man too much information, too much leverage against her. She’d spouted some bullshit about using Doc and the other medical personnel as her way of debriefing and managing her emotions regarding the missions that she went on – they all had some form of mental health training and debriefing after patients and traumatic events was commonplace in their fields.

They’d let it slide, thankfully.

The other agents weren’t as lucky, and even the most mentally resilient person would start feeling like shit if all their failures were analysed again and again and again without working on ways to improve and become better; it couldn’t be good for their mental health. A sliver of guilt cut through her – should she have spoken up? Asked to conduct these sessions herself?

No, they wouldn’t have let her have that much control. And she was doing something about it now.

They’d reached the meeting point while West had been getting side-tracked in her own head, footsteps echoing off the metal floor and walls. They weren’t the first to arrive, unsurprisingly – Carolina and York were there, conversing quietly with Tex. A bit more surprising, however, was that Carolina and Tex were talking without any obvious hostility. Certainly, there was a degree of stiffness and stilted awkwardness – from York, mainly – but it didn’t seem like either of them were ready to throw down.

West had known that Carolina was an intensely competitive person, and that Tex regularly threatened her spot on the top of the leader board. This was a regular conflict between the two – it seemed to be mostly initiated by Carolina, whenever she was placing second on the leader board; Tex didn’t appear to give two shits about being first or second, but she never backed down from a direct challenge and wasn’t afraid to resort to violence when provoked. The medic wasn’t sure whether that was due to Tex’s AI, Omega, although the woman had mentioned to her at one point that she didn’t use her AI very often due to the rage he often stirred; or rather some underlying anger issues that were present beforehand – West hadn’t known Tex long enough to make that judgement.

Maybe Carolina had set aside her competitive nature for the moment or Tex was keeping a leash on her temper and her AI; maybe both had realised that whatever the hell was going on was bigger than the rivalry between them. Who knew? West was sure that the conversation that she was about to have with everyone was going to be very tense and emotionally charged. Great.

The trio nodded to Wash and the medic as they approached, York shifting from between the two scary women to make room. West smiled at her friends as they slotted in, Tex giving her a short one in return while Carolina nodded. York gave an easy smile, attempting to levy the tense atmosphere.

“Hey Wash, West. We haven’t seen anyone else here. Tex was here when ‘Lina and I got here, and she said she hadn’t seen any of the others.” He shrugged, turning to angle himself towards the corridor. They were in a small off-branch of the main corridor – it gave them a smidge of privacy since they were pretty much fully hidden from view, although any sort of sound tended to echo. The door that led to the small collection of old storage rooms was just behind Carolina, her back up against the wall to the left of the entrance. It was closed, but West doubted it was locked.

Wash and York started to converse quietly, leaving West to interact with Carolina and Tex. She was friends with both agents, but the two of them together was a bit intimidating. Inspecting Carolina more closely, she could see the subtle jump of a muscle in her jaw, and the tense set of her shoulders – it was reflected in Tex’s body language, although the blonde appeared a bit better at hiding her tension. They were both being affected by this, more than either let on.

She supposed that was the same for everyone. The echoing footsteps of several people broke the stagnant atmosphere, to West’s immense relief. Judging by the cacophony of noise, it was probably the Reds and Blues, and looking at the deadpan expression Tex had adopted and the exasperated expression that Carolina had, she was probably right. Those guys didn’t know how to do anything quietly, did they? A moment later, the Blues – Church, Tucker and Caboose – came around the corner, closely followed by the Reds, Sarge looking disgruntled at having to follow the lead of a Blue. Doc was bringing up the rear end chatting with Donut and N, although he smiled briefly at West when they came around.

The new arrivals joined their small circle, the number of people in the corridor quickly becoming cramped and cozy. Donut got halfway though one of his trademark innuendos before being shushed by everyone, with Carolina calling for everyone’s attention.

“Alright, everyone. We’re just waiting on Erith, North and South. Tucker, can you take the Reds and Blues to the meeting room? I want to avoid any unnecessary conflicts and standing around like this is nothing short of suspicious.” The cyan agent in question nodded, clapping Wash on the shoulder as he passed, leading his gaggle of friends through the door. Donut had just slipped through the entrance when North hurried around the corner – with all the racket that the Reds and Blues made, West hadn’t heard the twins or Erith approaching.

“Sorry, sorry! We got caught up trying to avoid the patrols. Figured that it’d be easier to avoid the guards than trying to talk our way out of it.” The man was panting slightly from the exertion, and grumbled when South slapped him on the back, grinning.

“I would’ve just told them to fuck off and mind their own business. It’s worked for me before.” North gave his sibling a withering look that held years of being exposed to the same bullshit, receiving a smirk in response. Ah, siblings.

“Right, well, you’re here now. Wash, care to lead us through?” Carolina shifted, impatiently. Wash, breaking off from saying something to York, nodded.

“Alright, it’s a bit dark and cluttered, so be careful not to bash into anything…” He led them through the narrow entrance, which led into a small corridor which was, indeed, dark and cluttered. West nearly tripped on a box on the ground, which seemed to weight a fucking tonne. It stretched on for about ten meters, splitting off into different rooms before they reached a set of stairs, descending to another floor. Heading down, they reached yet _another_ corridor, somehow even _more_ dark and cramped than the floor above. Wash led them in, navigating around boxes and crap on the floor, using his headlight to navigate. There was a faint light emanating from the end of the corridor.

It seemed like this whole section of the ship had been forgotten. Dust was covering every exposed surface, leaving a thick coating on anything that brushed past. The boxes surrounding them were piled shoulder-high, although a few wayward stacks had spilled into the centre walkway. When they reached the lit room, they found a tiny, claustrophobic room, filled with slightly less clutter than the corridor outside; boxes had been pushed to the outskirts of the room and were being used as temporary seats and a table – an electric lamp had been rigged up to provide a weak, flickering light.

All in all, it looked old, musty, and a little bit squalid. It was _perfect._


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry about the delay in chapters - life got a bit hectic for a bit, but I'm gonna try get another chapter out tomorrow if everything goes well. That being said, I am getting up at three in the morning tomorrow, so if this chapter seems a little short or cut off, that's why. I wanted to try get something out before I head off to bed. Also, this hasn't been edited cause of my sleep deprivation so all mistakes are my own!  
Anyway, thank you for reading and enjoy the chapter!  
Catherine (Delirious)

It took about ten minutes of complaining and bitching to get everyone crammed into the tiny storage room; everyone was sprawling over each other and West hid a laugh as Grif pulled Simmons down on his lap, the maroon soldier spluttering and turning a bright, beet red. Tucker had eyed Wash at that point, waggling his eyebrows, with Wash giving a rather flat look before dissolving into a exasperated but fond smile. They ended up being squished up together.

West was currently sandwiched in-between Doc and Erith, with Carolina and York next to Doc, looking resigned at being caught in-between two of the top freelancers. North and South had engaged in an elbowing match for room until Tex told them to knock it off with a kick to South’s boot. N and Donut were standing with Caboose, with Church lingering in the doorway to try gain some escape from the crowded room. It was _not _meant to fit this many people!

But still. It was private and secluded. No-one would be down here at this time of night- not that it seemed like people really came down here, period. Once everyone had gotten settled – that was a very loose usage of the term, there was a _lot _of jostling and muttered swears that broke the musty air – everyone turned to Carolina. West didn’t take any offense. Carolina was there leader, it was natural for people to turn to her first.

“West was the one to call everyone. Did you want to explain what this is about?” The cyan agent nodded over to the medic, transferring the spotlight. Fuck, she hated doing this. She could treat all sorts of trauma, but this pseudo-public speaking made her nervous.

She’d gone over what she wanted to say with Wash, earlier, but at that point, she didn’t know where to start. _From the beginning, maybe? A quick summary? _

Right, okay. _Deep breath, West. _“So, as you guys know, we’ve had a problem for the last few weeks, where someone had been stealing drugs from the three med bays on the ship. They also found out that the auto-healing units were deliberately fucked with, so they’d explode.” Her hand started to drift up to the scars on her face, a little self-conscious under the weight of all the stares, but she forced it back down. “We also managed to catch one of their guys in the act of stealing from Recovery. In addition to this, we also found evidence of a drug ring operating on the ship.”

A soft, green light cast over everyone’s faces as Delta popped up at York’s shoulder, prompting Zeta to appear at her own. “That was due to your patient, Annie Summers, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, Delta. She never told us anything-“ West was cut off as South spoke up.

“Wait, you’ve had her all that time-“ The blonde was cut off by her brother, exclaiming ‘South!’ The two began to bicker between themselves, the tell-tale signs of an argument, before Carolina got the twins under control.

“North! South! West was speaking.” The twins broke off, a tad sheepish. Carolina nodded back to West with a smile, “Go ahead.”

The medic gave a short smile, running a hand through her hair. Right. Where was she? “Okay, so. The medics and I-“ She nodded to Doc, who gave a wane smile, “-figured that she was probably involved with the distribution of the drugs but we didn’t want to question her immediately.”

“But _why? _We could’ve been busting these people, West – look at what they did to your face-“ South burst out again, but fell silent after a deadly glare from Carolina.

“I know. It sucks that we had to wait, but Summers was addicted to morphine and the Nurse, Doc and I had to make sure she wouldn’t deteriorate before we got the chance to question her. It’s shitty, but it’s really common with long term morphine users. That’s why we were trying to keep it quiet. If the Director found out about her being _awake-“ _West broke off, steading herself.

“That’s why-“ Carolina sighed, as if doing the same, “That’s why I lied to the Director. About their patient.”

Silence fell, with only the sound of their collective breathing and buzzing of the electric lamp hanging between everyone in the suddenly tense room.

“Holy shit. Holy _shit. _You lied to the Director. _You _lied to the _Director. Fuck-“ _Church looked like he wanted to pace, but instead settled for swearing up a storm. “Whatever’s happening, it’s bad, isn’t it? Fuck!”

West sighed. “Yeah, it’s bad. The Director found out about Annie this afternoon when he was coming to visit Cerberus-“ _Oh, **shit**._

Silence descended, even faster than before, when-

“What the FUCK-“

“Cerb’s _back? _Since _when?!”_

“Oh, shit-“

“Yay! Cerb’s back! Is his head feeling better?”

“Guys-“

“EVERYONE, WOULD YOU PLEASE _SHUT. **UP.**_**” **

No, wait, the silence was back. Thank fuck everyone was terrified of Carolina and Tex; she’d never get them under control otherwise. Giving a sheepish smile and a shrug to Carolina, the cyan agent sighed, but began speaking. They’d have to tell everyone about Cerberus eventually.

“After Cerberus was caught, the Director took him away. From what I know, he was being sent on reconnaissance missions for Project Freelancer, to fight the Covenant with the assistance of his AI, Guardian. We found Guardian when we rescued the Reds and Blues from the alien ship. He only got back a week ago when he started feeling ill. West was asked to examine him, and, well-“ The agent pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly. She looked at Tucker, then, giving a wry smile. “I’m not entirely sure how to say this, but, Tucker, you’re not the only parent on the ship anymore.”

West saw the moment when that sentence sunk in – for Tucker, as well as everyone else. She raised a hand as it looked like she and Doc were going to be bombarded with questions, giving a slight laugh. What else could you do in this situation? “Don’t- I have no fucking idea how it happened, either, so _please_ don’t ask.” After shaking her head in disbelief – she _still _didn’t fully understand how Cerberus was pregnant - she continued. “So, anyway, the Director found out about Annie. They took her.”

It was Grif who spoke up that time. “Well, what the fuck do you want us to do about it? It’s not our problem anymore. Can’t we leave it?”

West and Zeta both bristled at that. Taking a breath, she was about to try to explain when Erith stood from the box she’d been perched on, drawing the attention of everyone. It was such a small room that any movement tended to stand out. The medic fell silent as the other agent gave her a look. Ah.

“This isn’t about Annie. Well, it is- West and Doc have a responsibility to her as medics, just like the rest of us. It’s part of a strict set of ethical codes they have to follow.” The brunette took a breath, exhaling slowly, before pulling a flash drive from a compartment in her armour. “I’ve been investigating the Director, quietly, over the past couple of months. West and I were the only ones who knew about it – don’t get upset, it was the only way to make sure it didn’t get back to the Director.” Giving a wry but fond smile to the Reds and Blues, she went on. “No offence, but you lot are fucking _loud. _Nothing stays quiet with your crew. Anyway- this is all the evidence I’ve been collecting.”

She tossed the drive onto the box serving as a makeshift table. West took up the mantle to explain her side of the story; “I realised that there are some _major _ethical breaches in the way that the Director and Counsellor treat all of us.” The medic nodded to the drive and sighed, suddenly exhausted. “It started when Cerberus didn’t realise that he could be getting better healthcare treatment, and after hearing what people told me about the Counsellor’s _sessions- _like, that shit is _wildly _illegal. It’s not even proper mental health counselling! Then there was all that shit about Cerberus and his kids, then how he treated Annie – it’s – fuck –“ Just talking about it all was winding her up, and she broke off with a frustrated swear. “Anyway. That’s just the healthcare side of it.”

West nodded at Erith, who started speaking again. “I’ve been digging around, trying to get some substantial evidence on what the Director and Counsellor have been doing. It’s been hard, and slow, but I found some of CT’s old files, which helped a lot.”

Silence fell between the freelancers at the mention of their old friend. Erith sighed, allowing the moment, before continuing. “I also managed to find a whole _load _of galactic treaties supporting what West was saying, and when I started to dig around the ship a little bit, I found a _bunch_ of dodgy crap – especially regarding the AI that you guys use.”

West touched her AI port absentmindedly – North and York did the same. N was frowning, Tex was immovable, Carolina, rigid. This was new information.

Erith took a deep breath in. _Whatever she’s gonna tell us, it’s not going to be good. _“So, we know that the AI they give us are fragments, right? They’ve always been clear on that. They never told us _how _they got the fragments. From what I’ve found, they applied for a bunch of AI to run their experiments and whatnot, but the Project was only given one. So, they needed to find a way to get _more._” The woman began fiddling with her gloves, anxiously. “Long story short, full AI are based on humans, so they reversed engineered a dissociative identity disorder. By torturing it.”

Holy fuck. Holy _fuck. _What the _hell- oh, shit, was Zeta okay?_

She could feel the AI fluctuating between an almost dissociative state and extreme, barely controlled anger. What the hell did this even _mean _for all of them? She wanted to do her normal method of coping by shoving everything to the back of her mind until she was ready to deal with this but –

This was Zeta. Her _friend. _Who currently felt like he was experiencing a massive crisis crossed with a mental breakdown while inside _her _head. Fuck.

Linking her hands behind her head, she brought her head down into her lap, sitting down heavily on the ground. Blocking out noise and sound would let her focus fully on her currently freaking out AI, and she began to run through her breathing exercises.

“Zeta. _Zeta. _I need you to count for me. _One.” _The confusion, the anger, the _pain- _it felt like a wall. How the hell did you calm down an upset _AI? No, focus. Come on. _“**_Zeta._**”

The stern bark of his name seemed to break through the barrier a little bit, with the chaos stilling slightly. Quietly, almost petulantly-

_>>One.>>_

“Two.”

_>>Two.>>_

“Three.”

_>>Three.>> _

Slowly, the whirling cacophony started to fade. The emotions surging through the AI were still there, and West wasn’t expecting them too. She just needed Zeta in a calm enough state that they could _talk, _without it feeling like her head was splitting in two. Releasing her ears, she sat up from where she’d been hunched over; waving away the worried looks that her friends were giving her.

It looked like all the AI users were having some form of trouble – it seemed that none of the AI here had known the exact details of how they’d come into being, or even if they’d had an idea, didn’t know that they’d come about from something as traumatic as _torture. Fuck!_

_This is the man we’re working under. _

That thought slashed through her, leaving her chilled, and very, very scared_. _


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol so I lied about getting this chapter out at a reasonable time, and I lowkey forgot that Sarge existed for this chapter. Whoops? Anyway, my brain feels a bit like mush from the sleep deprivation, so this has barely been edited. Enjoy!  
Anywhoo, happy New Years!  
Catherine (Delirious)

She was getting sick of silence.

A thick, heavy stillness that permeated the air between their group, choking and cloying. West was still half in her own head, trying to calm down Zeta, but it was fraying her already shot nerves. The other AI didn’t look any better; Lambda was flickering violently in front of N’s face, casting her pink light in a distracting strobe. Delta had disappeared, and it appeared that York was attempting to talk to him in the silent head-speak that operators and AI shared.

North was consoling Theta, much in the same way, the small AI flickering forlornly. He was playing with his skateboard, a nervous tic that meant he was more worried than he was letting on. Tex looked like she wanted to storm out of there, a furious scowl on her face but AI nowhere in sight, while Carolina appeared almost shell-shocked. While the other red-head didn’t currently have an AI, she had _had _one. Sigma, who’d been given to Maine after he’d lost most of his ability to speak during a mission.

Wasn’t there another fragment in operation? Gamma? He was assigned to Agent Wyoming if she remembered correctly, and the AI freaked her the fuck out. Not as much as Sigma, mind you, but his voice made her uneasy. All robot, no emotion or human inflections in the tone. For as much shit she gave Z about his weird-ass voice, it was meant to put people at ease. Gamma made her uneasy since it was hard to tell whether he was telling the truth- it made West realise how much she depended on verbal cues to judge what people were saying. How much did Gamma know about his origin?

Zeta appeared before her face, flickering in and out of her vision to catch her attention. He was still extremely agitated, and had started folding in on himself to place some space between his mind and hers- _but was it his mind? He was a copy of someone else- a fragment – he knew, **I knew that, **but **torture, why WOULD they do that-**_

_>>I’m going to pull myself.>>_

She looked up. The AI, if you could even describe him as such, looked incredibly wary, tired in a way that was dragging both down, threatening to engulf their minds. Since his primary role was treating injured people, the AI thought that something that caused pain and suffering on purpose was abhorrent. _He came from that- **I **came from that- I can’t **think**-_ His distress was causing their thoughts to overlap, running together in a tangled jumble that was becoming hard to distinguish. Reaching up to cradle the tiny hologram between her palms, she nodded, giving him a soft smile.

“I understand. Take as much time as you need, Z. I’ll be here if you need me.” His relief and gratefulness washed against her, and he pushed close to her mind before withdrawing, tucking himself away before gradually disappearing back into her armour’s storage unit. It was strange, not having the AI hovering on the outskirts of her consciousness, but she got it. The AI needed time to process. Finding out that you were basically a product of _torture-_

Fuck. This was really, really bad.

“What do you want us to do?”

West glanced up, noting the harsh lines of their leader’s face, the tense muscles in her jaw and the rigid set of her shoulders. _Fuck, if the AI had it bad, how the hell was Carolina dealing with this? _Her intense gaze was drilling into Erith, who was returning the look steadily. The agent held the redhead’s eye for a moment before looking away and sighing.

“I don’t know.” Crossing her arms, she jerked her head at the flash drive on the makeshift table before staring down the others. “But there’s enough evidence here to close Project Freelancer. Or, at the very least, get rid of all the corrupt people in this whole shitshow. Best case scenario? All the bad people get arrested by the UNSC and the Project gets taken down. Worst case scenario? Either we get arrested and tried as war criminals for going along with this, or everything crashes and burns.”

That seemed to cause a little bit of panic within their small group – in the Reds and Blues more so than the Freelancers, who were taking that with a lot less swearing than West was expecting. South and Tex looked murderous, N appeared mildly panicked, and North, York and Wash – they looked determined. Oh no. She recognised that look. That was the look that those three got when shit was going to go sideways, and they were the reason why.

York glanced at his two friends before standing. “I say we take this to the UNSC. Put Freelancer in the ground. What they’ve done to us, what they’re _doing _to us- it isn’t right. We’re supposed to be the good guys.” North and Wash nodded, chiming in with their own assent. “We need to _do _something.”

Around the group, people were nodding in agreement. Erith gave them a wry smile before turning to the Reds and Blues. “What do you guys reckon?”

Caboose appeared reasonably checked out of the conversation, as he normally did, although the sage expression that he wore could have been his _deep in thought_ expression. Who really knew? Doc and Simmons appearing to give the most thought to the problem. Donut was watching his friends with a slight frown crossing his normally jubilant face, fidgeting in place.

“I think we should help! If the scary man is why everyone looks so sad all the time, then we need to make sure that we are not sad! Everyone should be happy!” Caboose burst out, startling Donut next to him. The blue agent crossed his arms and pouted, falling silent as he said his piece.

Tucker groaned, alongside his teammate, giving Church a look from across the room, seemingly gauging his reaction. The man looked tense, angry. Well, angrier than normal. “Alright, someone’s gotta play devil’s advocate. What the fuck happens to us after this? I’d rather not go to prison if I can help it.”

“Yeah, unless you can guarantee that we won’t go to prison, it’s looking like a no-go. I’d rather not become some asshole’s bitch.” Grif chipped in with his contribution.

Church snorted from across the room, nodding to Simmons who was still perched on Grif’s lap. “Like you aren’t someone’s bitch already?”

The orange soldier gave him the bird in lieu of a response, ignoring the maroon man’s embarrassed noises from his lap. Donut jumped in before the argument could progress any further.

“Come on guys! It’s the right thing to do. I would’ve thought that after being thoroughly screwed by the Director and Counsellor-“ The groans of the Reds and Blues echoed throughout the room, Donut waving it off, unconcerned, “-that y’all would want to at least get back at them! If you won’t do it because it’s the right thing to do, do it for spite!”

Weirdly enough, _that _was what got the mismatched bunch to agree. West wanted to laugh. Spite was a powerful motivator, fucking hell. With most of the group agreeing with York, attention turned to the few that hadn’t spoken. Carolina and Church were the main two. Church seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here, the constant scowl etching his face and making him appear a hell of a lot older than he seemed. Carolina was flicking between looking at York with a half-torn expression on her face and Church with a look of concern.

This must’ve a hell of a decision to make. Shit, they were asking Carolina and Church to put away their own _father. _That dreaded silence fell again, with West glancing worriedly between her friends. Fuck, she couldn’t image how hard this was for the two. A flicker of green caught her attention, Delta appearing at York’s shoulder. _What did he want to say?_

“I believe that I may have an alternative solution.” The tiny AI looked grave, even more stricken than he normally did, but he held his head high. “What if we approach the Director directly?”

“Uh- _what?” _Church whipped around to stare, open-mouthed at the AI.

York held up his hands to placate the other agent. “Let him speak, Church. D’s smart. If he’s got another plan that might help, shouldn’t we hear him out?” He nodded at his AI. “Go ahead, D.”

“Thank you, York. If we approach the Director quietly, we may be able to pressure him _and _the Counsellor into resigning. This will preserve the Project’s assets and allow for us to place our own agents in charge.” The AI paused, collecting his thoughts. “We can stop all un-consensual and illegal experimentation on all personnel, both human and AI, and we can realign the Project in a way that follows the original goals of the agency. This would also prevent any unjust arrests of current agents and will allow any agents that are unhappy with the Project to leave.”

This time, the silence wasn’t quite as stifling. That- shit, that plan made a lot of sense. If they could make the Director leave quietly – there was no guarantee he _would_, but shit, they’d figure that out if they decided to go with this plan – then that would solve a _lot _of their problems. Of course, that meant that they’d have to clean the mess that the Director and Counsellor left behind – they might still have to approach the UNSC afterwards so that _they _didn’t end up in hot water cause of the whole shitshow with the AIs and all that, and who knew how that would turn out-

West turned to Carolina. The other agent still hadn’t spoken, seemingly lost in thought. York touched her shoulder, gently, and she jerked up to look at him, a rare moment of vulnerability clouding her face as she grasped his hand in hers. A moment passed between them, making West want to turn away to give them a semblance of privacy, but it only lasted a second. The cyan agent looked up, locking eyes with Erith, then West, determination taking over her face and hardening her gaze.

“Let’s talk to the Director.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this??? Another chapter?? Oh shit??  
That being said, this is another very dialogue-heavy chapter, and I was trying a new writing technique where I wrote all the dialogue first and wrote actions and other stuff in after. Not sure how well it's worked, but I found it a lot easier to keep track of characters this way, so that's helpful??  
Anyway, hope you all enjoy the story!  
Catherine (Delirious)

“We need a battle plan.” Carolina had stepped up to the makeshift table, determination sparking in her eyes. “The Director’s smart. We can’t just charge in there.”

With Carolina’s declaration, it had been unanimously agreed on that they would try to talk to the Director and Counsellor first to try get them to step down and hand over control of the Program. That would be their primary plan, and if shit hit the fan, they’d have to consider other options.

York was frowning, conversing with Delta in his head. After a moment, he nodded, looking up. “Delta thinks we should get the other agents on our side. Actually, D, did you want to explain? Might be easier.”

The tiny, green AI appeared, again, casting a flickering green light over everyone. “If we present as a united front, the chance of us getting the Director to step down would be greater. It would also prevent the Director from mobilising any soldiers loyal to him. Considering his past and present behaviour, I would not put it past him to try and eliminate any threats to his leadership. This includes the Counsellor’s manipulations.”

West knew that very well, since she’d been subjected to the Director’s bullshit punishments since joining the Program. She probably wasn’t the only one, that being said, and she’d need to remember that when talking to other agents. Everyone was affected. Not just her.

Tex stood from where she was leaning against a box. “Carolina and I are the strongest Freelancers. If we show up together, it’ll show that we’re not fucking around. They’ve been manipulating us to fight between ourselves since the beginning, so if we try to take them on together, they might take us seriously.” She gave everyone a flat glare, as if daring them to contradict her. “Church should come as well.”

The man in question was staring at the other agent, expression warring between disbelief, anger and _‘holy fuck, how is this my life?’ _West was familiar with that last one, since she experienced it quite regularly. “Fuck- we didn’t ask for _any _of this.” Church groaned, long and drawn out, before giving an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah. _Yeah. _Fine. I’ll come. I want to see everything this asshole built burnt to the fucking _ground_.”

Different noises of agreement came from their group. West supposed that no-one wanted to confront the Director directly; she had a sneaking suspicion that that was born from a healthy dose of fear. Fuck, he terrified the shit out of her- but Tex was right. They needed to do this together. Speaking of doing this together -

“What about bringing Cerberus? He should know what the Director’s done. Might be able to help since he’s been around from before the Project.” She froze after the last sentence left her. Wait, was she not supposed to bring that up? _Ah, shit._ The medic winced, sending an apologetic smile towards the other redhead in the room, who sighed.

“That-“ The cyan agent grimaced, breaking off, shifting her weight from one leg to the other while she gathered her thoughts. “Getting him to help us might be hard. He was raised by the Director and manipulated by the Counsellor for _years.” _Shit, that introspective look on Carolina was unnerving, and it seemed that the others felt the same. York placed a hand on Carolina’s bicep. She gave him a short, wry but knowing smile. “That sort of conditioning is hard to break.”

Grif sat upright from his sprawl, making Simmons squawk from the shift. “It’d fuck with the Director’s head though, wouldn’t it? If we’re going for all that psychological bullshit.”

“It seems wrong, using their methods against them.” The maroon agent frowned, half twisted to talk to Grif plus the rest of the room. The orange agent snorted and poked the lanky man in the side.

“Since when does that matter?”

Sarge, who’d been suspiciously quiet for the whole proceeding, decided to chime in, his cheerful southern accent piercing everyone’s ears. “That’s the best sort of strategy! _Mind games. _Beat the enemy before they know they’re beat!” The red agent, thankfully not carrying his trademark shotgun, had to settle for cocking an imaginary one- what did that gesture even _mean_?

“We need to consider Cerberus’ kids as well.” Doc turned to face West. “I don’t think the medics here would agree with Cerberus meeting with the Director if it put him at risk.” She sighed and nodded. Doc was right; West was a bit worried at what the stress of the whole ordeal might do to Cerberus’s children. They were probably being overly cautious, but fuck, they were doing their best, wading in blind to a situation that neither had imagined happening. (Although, with what had happened to Tucker, maybe they should’ve made a policy for alien impregnations? Oh lord.)

Caboose clapped his hands together excitedly, his enthusiasm almost knocking Donut and N over, both giving short laughs. “We can ask Cerb! Shouldn’t he be a part of the secret club? Maine too!”

Silence fell briefly as the agents glanced nervously between themselves. An exaggerated sigh broke it, Donut standing up with a fierce look on his normally cheerful face.

“Caboose is right! We can’t decide for him. Carolina and Church need to ask him!” Donut stood, knocking into Caboose as he placed his hands on his hips, staring down the cyan and blue agents with the special brand of determination that only Donut seemed to have.

Church gave a squawk of indignation from the door. “Why _us_?!”

“Because we’re the closest thing he has to a family. Alright.” Carolina sighed, closing her eyes briefly before looking over to Church. Under her severe gaze, he wilted, relenting with a muttered swear. “Church and I will go talk to Cerberus and Maine. See what they say.”

Tex was nodding, agreeing with Carolina. This was quickly becoming one of the _weirdest_ days that West could remember, holy heck. “We should approach the Director after the morning briefing. It’ll be on our own terms, so we can take him off guard.”

Wash, pressed up to Tucker’s side with a faint blush colouring his cheeks – South had been mouthing lewd actions from across the room, which the man was determined to ignore, no South, _fuck off_ – chimed in. “Maybe not tomorrow. Use that time to convince Cerberus? You guys can go the day after.”

Tex and Carolina shared a look, both nodding in agreement. Yep. _Weird._

“Damn. We should get ready for shit to go sideways. Can we get into the armoury? Does anyone have any secret weapon stashes?” Tucker groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Tex laughed. “Who do you think I am?”

“Yeah, dipshit, it’s _us. _I’ve got stuff hidden all over the ship.” South grinned, showing her teeth.

North just rolled his eyes, exclaiming: “Oh my god.”

His sister elbowed him with a grin. “It’s not like you don’t have your own, baby bro. Seriously, how many rifles do you _need?”_

Was North _embarrassed? _A faint, red blush was spreading across his pale face, much to the joy of South and his friends. Wash and York both grinned at the blond, not helping the raging blush overtaking his face. He was! “It’s my primary weapon! I like to be prepared – and I am _not _younger than you. We’re twins!” Then, muttered more to himself; “At least I’m taller.”

South elbowed him in response, ready to get into a fight, when Carolina cut the bickering twins off. “Enough. You two, knock it off. Alright, if Cerberus agrees to help us, Tex, Church, Cerberus and I will approach the Director tomorrow morning after the briefing. Tucker is right-“

Tucker crowed, laughing. “Oh, shit, did everyone hear that?”

The redhead rolled her eyes, continuing. “And we need to be prepared for a physical retaliation. N, Simmons, when we approach the Director, can you disable access to the armoury? Anything to stop soldiers from arming themselves.”

Simmons straightened up, much to Grif’s amused snort. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Suck-up.” The Hawaiian gave him a fond, shit-eating grin, much to the other man’s visual irritation.

N grinned, poking a finger through her Lambda’s hologram, who responded by flipping N off. “Of course! Lam can help me jam the electromagnetic doors. Shouldn’t be too hard!”

The pink AI rolled her eyes, swatting at her operator. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m gonna be doing all the hard work.” She growled at N, who kept poking at her with a short laugh. “Stop that!”

Carolina turned away from the bickering pair with a huff, towards the two medics. She looked ready to punch someone in the face, considerably done with everyone’s bullshit. “West, Doc, can you two remain on standby in case of casualties?”

The purple medic nodded, smiling. “I’ll get my equipment ready. I can get the Nurse to help as well.”

_Ah. Well._ “Actually, I was hoping that I might be able to go and help my patient.” She gave a sheepish smile, glancing towards Doc, who gave an understanding nod.

Carolina frowned. “The drug overdose.”

The medic nodded. “Yeah. It’s critical that I get her medication to her – I can’t stress how important it is. I know that people aren’t really fond of her since she’s connected to the drug ring, but I have a duty of care. Plus, if I can see about finding more info on the ring.”

The cyan agent paused, deliberating, before she nodded towards the twins. “Take North and South. Will that be enough help?”

“Hopefully, yeah. Thank you.” West winced as South elbowed North particularly hard. The other agent shrugged it off, elbowing it back with a deadpan look that spoke of years of experience.

South gave the medic a shit-eating grin. “Sucks to be you, West. I’ve heard that we’re a _handful.”_

Her brother groaned. “Stop scaring her, South. It’ll be fine, West, we’ll help you out.”

“Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it.” The medic smiled, thankful.

The flow of conversation began moving away from the task at hand, with a small argument breaking out between the twins and who would be taking the lead. York, quietly deliberating with Delta, coughed to gain everyone’s attentions. “What about the rest of us?”

The green AI answered for him and the rest of the crew. “Most of the remaining agents should position themselves in strategic locations around the ship in the event of an organised resistance. Erith, I believe that you have multiple copies of the evidence?”

The orange and teal agent nodded, pulling a data pad from a compartment in her armour, waving it in the air. “Yeah, ‘course. I’ve got a few hard copies and a few versions uploaded to an external mainframe, outside of the ship’s. Figured it’d be safer.”

Delta smiled. “That is wise. It would be prudent to have a copy ready to send to the UNSC, in the event of cataclysmic failure. It is highly unlikely that such an event, such as the crashing of the Mother of Invention, will occur, but it is always good to prepare for all outcomes. I will co-ordinate with all AI to maintain a private and cohesive level of communication. West, please make sure that Zeta is active by the agreed meeting time with the Director.”

The medic grunted in agreement, touching her AI port gently. “Yeah, of course.”

With that said, the AI nodded, more to himself, before addressing the rest of their team. “I will simulate the best positions for the remaining agents to place themselves on the ship, so please excuse me. I will send the files out once I am finished.”

Giving his AI a fond smile, York thanked his AI as he logged off. “Thanks Delta. Good work, buddy.”

A cough from their leader brought everyone’s attentions back to business. “Okay, everyone that has a role, are they clear on what they are doing?” There was muttered assent and agreements from around the room, some more enthusiastic than others. “Good. Everyone else, wait for further instructions, but be ready to act. Does anyone else want to say anything?” A chorus of ‘no’ made the rounds that time. “We’re all done then. Let’s head back in staggered groups.”

Donut jumped up, clapping his hands together. “Good luck, everyone! Stay safe and don’t forget protection!”

The Reds and Blues exclaimed loudly, with multiple cries of “Donut!” and pained groaning. Church made his escape as he was pretty much out the door, with the rest of Blue team following close behind, Caboose chattering excitedly with Donut who slipped out with the Blues. Simmons managed to escape from Grif’s lap – it spoke to how often those two did shit like that that they only received minimal ribbing on their way from the room, hands clasped together with Grif flipping everyone off.

Regardless, they left together, the Freelancers beginning to trail slowly after them. South punched West’s shoulder on the way out, saying something about North being full of shit and not being late for their mission, giving the medic a grin before disappearing out the door. North followed more sedately, leaving with Wash and York. Carolina and Tex shared a look before leaving together – West guessed that they wanted to discuss what they were gonna say to the Director. Sarge trailed after the pair, wanting to discuss battle plans? The medic wasn’t sure. It seemed likely, considering the agent.

N and Erith left together, giving a soft goodbye to West and Doc. The medics gave their own goodbyes, heading from the room together. It would be a bit of a walk back to their rooms, and it would be a good chance to discuss how West would get Annie’s medication to the woman without raising any suspicions. They’d probably have to talk to the Nurse beforehand, and West would have to brief North and South.

She’d worry about that later. It was time to sleep.


	36. Chapter 36

West was in the main treatment room, chatting with the Nurse when South burst in, North close on her heels. It was the next morning after their midnight rendezvous, and West was nursing a large coffee that she’d swiped from the mess hall under the nose of their scary cook. It was helping the exhaustion, but she was still feeling out of sorts from everything that was happening. The Nurse had been teasing her about the amount of sugar she usually drank with her coffee. It was apparently disgusting. Doc was elsewhere on this ship, doing his thing with his crew.

South almost kicked the door open, locking eyes with the medic and heading over to the two women. “Sup Doc! We getting this show on the road?”

“Do you ever stop?” Her blonde twin sighed, looking extremely fed up but somehow conveyed an exasperated fondness for his sibling.

The woman grinned, flashing her teeth. “Nope.”

The medic raised an eyebrow at the two, who were beginning to bicker. “Hey guys- Doc? You know I’m a medic, right? If you call me that I’m gonna think you’re calling _Doc_ Doc.”

South laughed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, yeah. So, we doing this thing or what?”

West gave a tired smile but nodded, standing. “Yeah, give me two secs.” Turning to the Nurse, she smiled apologetically. “Take over?”

The Nurse gave a wry smile, shaking her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, West.” Touching her arm gently, she gave the medic a stern look. “Don’t do anything stupid-“ South grinned, giving a short laugh. The Nurse sighed, smiling at the three of them. “And stay safe, okay?”

The medic laughed. “We’ll be fine. Thanks.” Tossing her head towards the office, she nodded at North and South. “Come on, we can talk in here.”

Leading them into the small room, the medic shut the door, turning the computer off and anything else that might’ve been used to monitor their conversation. It was old hat at this point, but necessary.

Leaning against the desk, West crossed her arms and motioned to the paperwork sprawled on the desktop. They didn’t really use paper all that much, so it was harder to find, but thankfully you couldn’t hack a scrap of paper. Besides, if anyone was poking around and found it, she could probably pass it off as medication for another soldier. It wasn’t uncommon. “I was doing the numbers, and this is the amount we need to give to Annie to make sure she doesn’t deteriorate.”

South snorted, perched on the bed. “Or what, she’ll kick the bucket? I don’t know why you’re so determined to help this chick, West. She was helping those idiots steal drugs from your med bay. You’re not angry about that?”

West stilled, deliberating over her answer. “I _was_ angry. I was pretty fuckin’ pissed- of _course _I was. But I’ve got a duty of care to my patients, and I genuinely think Annie was trying to get over her addiction. That speaks a lot to me.”

North was standing near the door, arms folded, frown creasing his face. “You said that _you _were running the numbers? For the medication.”

The redhead nodded, knowing what that frown meant. “Yeah. Z’s still offline. How’s Theta?”

The male agent rubbed the back of his neck, giving a dejected sigh. “Not good. I’ve been speaking to him, but… yeah.”

West gave him a cynical grin. “It’s hard?”

North chuckled. “Yeah, it’s hard.”

The medic exhaled, rubbing at an eye tiredly. “I’m trying to give him as much time as I can to process, but I’m gonna have to activate him soon.” Straightening up, she folded her arms again. “That being said, he’s not essential for getting this medication to Annie or working out dosages. The Nurse, Doc and I have to do this shit by hand all the time. It’s not hard. It _would_ help, but I’d rather give him a bit more time.”

North tapped on his AI port. “We can use Theta if we need to.”

“Yeah, I figured.” West smiled.

The other twin groaned, standing suddenly. “So, are we going to stand around chatting all day, or are we actually gonna _do_ something?”

West knocked her knuckles against the desktop. “Right! So, I was having a chat with one of the soldiers in the brig – and he said that Annie was moved there last night. She was co-operating up until they got her to the cell, but then refused to say anything. Apparently got really freaked out but didn’t say why.”

South frowned, confused. “So, wait, are we breaking this chick out or just getting her medication to her?”

The redhead paused, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I think-“ Breaking off, she sighed with a loud exhale, collecting her wayward thoughts. “At the moment, we’d just put ourselves in more hot water than we already are. If we broke Annie out, we’d just create a fuss. We don’t need that right now.”

North nodded. “Especially with Carolina and the others trying to convince the others to stand with us.”

Snorting, South sat back down on the bed with a thump. “Stealth? Shouldn’t be too hard.”

West nodded. “Yeah. But it’s important that the soldiers don’t know I’m there.” She paused, turning to look between North and South, “Does the brig have security cameras?”

The other woman shook her head with a scowl. “Nah. Thought that was weird the first time I was down there, but it makes sense now, considering who the Director is. How the hell did we let this asshole do this for that long?”

Her brother grimaced, nudging her foot with his boot. “They were pitting us against each other. I suppose it’s hard to unite against the real enemy when you think everyone’s against you.” The man sighed, looking up, gaze hardening. “We’re doing something about it now.”

The medic nodded in agreement. “The Counsellor and Director were psychologically manipulating all of us. It’s… hard, to recognise when that’s happening, and even harder to do something about it. But we know about it now, and we’re trying to make a difference. That’s the main thing.”

South, sounding sullen, muttered. “Yeah. Alright.”

West smiled at the other woman. “Okay, so there’s no cameras. That’s helpful. We’ll still have to sneak in, so you guys might need to run interference while I give Annie her drugs. Worse comes to worse, one of you two could run over and get her to take them.”

Motioning to the calculations on the desk, North looked back to the medic. “How many tablets does she need to take?”

West glanced at the paper, quickly. “Two. I’ll bring the bottle with me, and I can give you guys some tablets-“ The medic stood from her lean against the desk, striding out into the main area. Crouching down at the med cabinet, she retrieved what she needed, giving a smile to the Nurse before returning to the office. She’d have to improvise with the packaging, but she managed to scrounge two plastic, zip-lock bags, shaking two tablets into each.

With that, she handed one packet to each of them, storing the rest of the tablets in her armour. North and South did the same, pocketing the medication. “Right, keep those safe. I’ll need those back afterwards, mind you. This is an unusual situation, so I’m going against protocol, but-“

South snorted, sarcastically. “Who the fuck cares about protocol? Doesn’t seem to exist here anyway.”

“You’re not wrong.” North chuckled with a despondent laugh.

The medic gave a short laugh in agreement, sighing and shaking her head. “It’d be funny if it weren’t true.”

Silence fell between the three, each falling into their own thoughts. After a minute, North coughed, drawing West’s attention. South just rolled her eyes. “So, we need a strategy for when we get in there.”

His sister lent back on her hands with a huff. “Can’t we just walk on in? Tell the soldiers we’re on official business, bust our way in there?”

West grimaced. “You guys might be able to, but they’ve probably been told to watch out for me.”

“Right, that might be a problem.” North grumbled.

South tilted her head, nodding to the medic. “What about your friend? The soldier that told you about your patient?”

The medic in question huffed, running a hand through her hair again, messing up her pony tail even further. “I don’t want to put him in danger, but I’ll send him a quick message. See if he can help.” Typing out a quick message on her datapad, she sent it off. “I’d let you two go and deliver the drugs, but I want to give her a quick assessment. Just see how she is.”

North nodded. “Yeah, ‘course. But, worse comes to worse, South and I can pass her the drugs, and we can record whatever happens. Can you make a visual assessment?”

The medic grumbled, frowning. “Yeah, but it won’t be all that accurate. We’ll see how that goes. Do we need a cover story to get in there?”

“We might not need a story. Those soldiers are from the brig.” South pointed to a private that had just burst into Recovery and who was gesturing in wild, panicked movements to the Nurse, who looked like she was trying to calm him down. “Think they’re here about Annie?”

The medic stood. “I don’t think so.”

Hurriedly, the Nurse entered the office, coming over to West to touch her arm. “Did you hear any of that?”

“No, but he’s from the brig.” West frowned, concerned.

The other woman nodded, quickly. “Yeah. You need to get your gear, _now_. There’s been another overdose.”

South groaned from the bed. “Wait, _seriously?_”

The Nurse nodded. “You can take North and South with you- I managed to convince the soldier to let you go since you have more experience treating drug overdoses. But you need to _go_.”

“Right, come on.” West stood, pulling out a treatment bag, oxygen bag and a stretcher, placing them just outside the office. Walking over the drug cabinet, she unlocked it, again, and paused. “Soldier, do you know what the patient was presenting with?”

The private straightened, stuttering in panic. “Uh, well, we’re not sure-“ He looked from the Nurse to the medic, eyes widened in panic. “Private Jones was found collapsed- he’s breathing, but really slowly-“

The medic swore, reaching for the naloxone. “Damnit, alright.”

South, standing next to the Nurse, spoke up, disbelieving. “Wait, were they on _duty?”_

The private grimaced, nodding. “We believe so, yes.”

“Alright, come on you three.” West stood from her crouch, nodding to North, South and the private.

The private straightened up, saluting. “Yes, ma’am!”

South laughed, walking over to swing the treatment bag over her shoulder, carrying the weight easily. “Nice sucking up, brown-noser.”

Her twin gave her a flat look, exasperated, but picked up the stretcher leaning against the wall. “Leave the kid alone, South.”

West picked up the oxygen bag, thankful at not needing to carry all her stuff alone. Heading towards the door, the three followed, and with a call of goodbye to the Nurse, they were hurrying on their way to the brig.

The four were currently walking towards the brig- well, half walking, half jogging. The soldier that had ran to Recovery was panting quietly next to her, while North and South jogged ahead. Half turning to the private, she gave him a smile, hoping to put the anxious soldier a little bit more at ease. “What’s your name, mate?”

The soldier startled, losing a step. “Me, ma’am?”

West laughed. “No, I meant South.” The medic smiled, again, both at the soldier and South’s loud snort. “And call me West. Ma’am sounds too formal.”

The soldier laughed nervously, glancing at the two Freelancers ahead of them. “Um, okay. West. My name’s Luke.”

North, who’d obviously listening in on the conversation with his sister, chimed in. “It’s nice to meet you, Luke.”

“You too, sir.” The soldier – Luke – looked jittery as fuck. Was it because of the situation or because he was in the company of three Freelancers? _Who knows, most of the soldiers act like this around us anyway._

The medic nodded, turning to Luke again. “Okay, what can you tell me about Private Jones? How they presented, how old are they, as much as you know about them. Anything will help.”

Luke paused, jogging in silence for a moment, before he looked back at the medic. “Uh, okay, I don’t know much about Jones- he keeps to himself, mostly. Doesn’t really socialise with the other Privates. I don’t know much about medicine, but he was breathing _really slow. _The CO yelled for me to come and get one of you guys as quickly as possible.”

West exhaled, nodding in agreement. “It’s good that you did, Luke.”

The female blonde craned her neck around, almost jogging backwards. “What are you thinking, Doc?”

The medic snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Not a doctor, South. It sounds like it might be another morphine/opioid overdose. Depending on how much he’s taken, he could either be okay or-“

South cut her off, finishing the sentence in her normal eloquent way. “Or he’s fucked?”

Her sibling sighed, exasperated. “Maybe _don’t _put it like that, South? We’re with company, pretty sure you’re scaring the kid.”

West shushed the two, waving her hand and speeding up her pace. “The patient could be either okay or really bad. So, we need to _hurry_.”

Luke led them through the brig, the enclosed, cramped cells leading to a pervasive sense of claustrophobia. West wasn’t normally affected by shit like that, but- shit, it was unnerving. This place had a very oppressive atmosphere.

The medic had been here before, a few times, to check on prisoners and whatnot, so she noted that they were heading over towards the main office in the centre of the winding labyrinth. Must’ve been where their patient had decided to shoot up. Luke, their guide, shouldered open the door, where the commanding officer of the brig looked up from where he was maintaining the soldier’s airway. “Over here, medic!”

_Goddamn it. _Hurrying over to the patient, she took note of his appearance – his breathing was much slower than it should’ve been – _bradypnea, _her mind noted – and he appeared to be sliding in-between consciousness and unconsciousness. She then took note of the soldier himself – he was old, older than her, probably only by a few years. _I’m shit at guessing age, though._ His hair was clipped in a short buzzcut that made his brown hair appear almost blonde, and while he was in full armour, West noted that there was an obvious needle mark on one of the veins in his neck. _He’s either a long-term drug user, or it was a matter of availability. I can’t see any other trackmarks on his neck though._

Time to introduce herself and run through her primary survey. “Hi, Jones, my name’s West. Can you tell me where you are right now?”

The man slurred, attempting to talk back, but it was almost incomprehensible garbage. _Okay, not great, but considering his mental cognition at the moment, not abnormal. _

A thought stuck her as she began her assessment. _Where’s the needle? _She couldn’t see it anywhere, not like when they found Annie. No vial, either, so they’d have to go by the patient’s symptoms to figure out what he’d taken. They could take bloods back at Recovery to get a better idea of what he’d taken, but she was going in blind. _No worse than normal then._

_Okay, he’s responding to voice. Not the worse he could be, good. _Leaning over the patient, she checked his airway quickly. It was open, with no side of any swelling or anything else that might indicate another medical condition. While she was fairly certain it was an opioid overdose, it was good to eliminate any other possible injury or illness.

_How’s his breathing? _On examination, she noted that Jones was breathing with one breath in around ten seconds. That wasn’t _great. _The normal rate was usually two breaths within ten seconds. That tied in with the normal overdose symptoms.

_Circulation next. _Pressing down firmly on the man’s forehead, she checked his central perfusion – it was coming back normal, but she couldn’t check the man’s peripheral perfusion due to his armour. It would have to come off at some point.

_Lastly, disability. He’s got an altered conscious state and I need to check his blood glucose levels. I’ll do that next, but I don’t think there’s anything else. _Right, time to check vitals and start his treatment. She’d expose and evaluate the patient back at Recovery.

Reaching over to start unpacking the treatment bag, the medic started prepping the equipment that might be needed. “We’re here to help, okay? I’m just going to take a couple of your vitals, if that’s okay? It won’t hurt, alright? I’ll be as quick as I can, then I can give you something to help with the drowsiness.” Turning to the twins, she spoke quietly but firmly. “Get ready to restrain him. He could come out swinging.”

South crouched down next to her. “Wait, what do you mean, _come out swinging?”_

Taking a scan of the patient, the medic checked the man’s vital signs – a bit on the low side, but not currently life-threatening. _If they keep deteriorating at this rate, however, he’s going to be in some real trouble._ “He might be combative after I give him the naloxone.”

_His oxygen saturations are a bit on the low side – I do **not **want him to go into shock or respiratory depression. That is **not **what I need right now! _ “Alright, I’m gonna give you some oxygen, okay? I’m putting this mask over your face, feel that air? It’s gonna help you breathe.” After placing the Hudson mask on the man’s face, she started prepping the naloxone. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed North slipping from the room. “South, can you talk to the CO, find out Jones’ history?”

The purple agent stood, turning to the CO, who had been watching anxiously with Luke from the edge of the room. “Will do, Doc.” They started to converse, quietly, about what had happened. West administered the naloxone, noting the time that she gave the drug.

West turned to the other private in the room. “Luke, would you be able to help me roll Jones’ onto his side? I need to do some more checks.”

The man looked completely terrified, out of his comfort zone, but ready to follow orders. Good. “What- what do I need to do?”

Shuffling up to make room for the private, she manoeuvred Jones’ right arm to extend towards her. “Place your hands here-“ West pointed to Jones’ hip and ankle, showing the private how to hold Jones’ ankle steady, “and here.” She moved to hold Jones’ neck and hip, linking her arm underneath Luke’s.

This wasn’t a proper log roll – for one, the patient wasn’t in spinal precautions, and she really could’ve done this by herself, but she wanted to keep everyone in the room occupied so that North wouldn’t be missed. She wanted to stall, but she also didn’t want to compromise the patient’s treatment and safety. “And when I say ‘roll’ you need to roll Jones onto his side. You just need to steady him while I have a quick look at his back.”

Rolling the patient to the side, West started to perform a rudimentary secondary survey; it was hard with Jones’ armour in the way, but she could still look for anything abnormal. Jones had started to regain some of his coherency, beginning to move about and wriggle in Luke’s hold. West started verbalising her secondary survey, talking through what she was doing and what she noticed. Thankfully her rambling meant that Jones stilled somewhat, and she noticed that Luke’s grip was still holding firm, despite his apprehension. The kid was doing well.

It was about three minutes later when North returned, slipping inside the room like a ghost, giving West a quick nod. Giving a silent sigh of relief, she turned to Luke and South, who was still grilling the CO. “Okay, I’m going to need everyone’s help to take Private Jones back to Recovery.”

North moved closer to his sister, who nodded, and spoke in their silent twin language that all siblings seemed to have. He nodded back and something passed between them. “What do you need us to do?”

The medic motioned to the stretcher resting on the wall. “North, grab the stretcher and bring it here.” He did, laying it down next to West. “Thanks. Luke, can you hold Jones’ there for a little bit longer?”

The man nodded, quickly, bobbing his head. “Of course!”

West smiled. “Thank you, Luke.” Reaching for the stretcher, she began sizing it up next to Jones, talking as she did. “Okay, I’m just going to strap you in, Jones.” Wedging the stretcher underneath the patient, she motioned for Luke to roll him back down. “Okay, South, can you come up here,” West pointed to the patient’s left shoulder- it was usually preferred that people lifting stand next to someone of similar height and she and South were closer in height than the men. “Luke, North, can you guys take his legs? I’m going to say ‘one, two, three, lift,’ and then we lift. Everyone understand?”

Communication for stretcher lifts was _incredibly _important. Everyone chimed in, some more enthusiastically than others. “Yes,” “Got it.” “Yes, West!”

The medic nodded. “Okay. One, two, three, lift!” The lift went well, the four of them raising Jones smoothly. West had secured the oxygen bag over her shoulder, and North had taken the treatment bag and slung it over his. The CO got the door, and they began their hike back to Recovery.

It took longer than the walk over to the brig, but they managed to get Jones back to Recovery without any hassle, the private slowly gaining consciousness on the way back. Thankfully he hadn’t become combative, which was unfortunately a more common occurrence than she’d like to see. At that point in time, they were standing in Recovery, West giving her handover to the Nurse next to Jones’ cot. North and South were in the office, waiting, and Luke was standing next to the doorway, fidgeting. “-These are his recent vitals, and this was how much naloxone Jones was given. Do you need any other information?”

The other woman shook her head, looking over the man’s vitals and paperwork the medic had dictated on the way over. “No, that should be enough. Thank you for that handover, West.” She smiled, nodding to the office. “Go debrief with your team.”

West smiled in response, thankful. “Thanks, Nurse.” Squeezing her shoulder quickly, she dropped her hand and began to retreat to the office. “I really appreciate this. I’ll come help after.”

The Nurse laughed, turning to their new patient. “Of course.”

The medic began heading to the office when she turned to address the private milling by the door. “You’re dismissed, Luke. Thanks for all your help. You did well.”

Luke straightened up, giving an exhausted smile. “Of course! It was my honour!”

Waving goodbye as the soldier left, West heading to the office, opening the door with a creak. North and South looked up from their conversation, North hopping up from the desk chair. South was lounging on the bed again, tilting her head to the side, watching them.

“I managed to get Annie her drugs.” He handed over a flashdrive, which West grabbed and pocketed quickly, thanking him. “This is a recording of what happened. It’s only a few minutes, but hopefully it helps.”

South snorted. “That was pretty fuckin’ lucky, wasn’t it?”

Sighing, West took a seat on the bed, elbowing South to get her to move over. She did, not after elbowing her back in retaliation. “Not for Private Jones, it isn’t. The Nurse, Doc and I _were_ expecting more overdose patients. This sounds really morbid, but I’m actually surprised we haven’t had more cases like Annie’s and Jones’ already. I mean, it’s good that we haven’t had _more _cases but-“

North smiled, knowing. “West, it’s fine. We get it. So, what now?”

The medic slumped back against the wall, slouching. “Well, we wait. I’m gonna help the Nurse with our new patient, and I’m going to watch over the video that you gave me.”

“Ugh, I hate waiting.” South mirrored her posture with a grumble.

Her brother sighed, reclining in the chair again. “Carolina will let us know how it goes, and Delta will give us the signal to get ready for the takeover.” He cracked a tired smile. “But, yeah. Waiting sucks.”

The medic laughed, kicking her leg out at him. “You’re preaching to the choir, North.”

South smirked. “True that.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
Sorry about the delay in the chapter, but I've been on placement for the past three weeks so I haven't had the opportunity to write much. I just wanted to give a quick warning for the end of this chapter - it gets pretty heavy with the discussion of trauma and West's consideration of her thought processes, including a short couple of paragraphs about suicidal ideation. It think it is necessary to discuss this stuff in regards to my character, but if this is confronting for anyone, feel free to skip.  
As always, thank you for reading!  
Catherine (Delirious)

_The video is swaying, with a tuft of white-blond hair obscuring the top left corner of the shot every couple of seconds. North is silent, his hand retreating from frame, revealing a narrow, steel-grey corridor, with rows of cells lining the entire way down. The inside of the cells are hidden by the agent’s armour and his posture; the only sounds are the soft clunking of boots on the metal ground. There aren’t any soldiers in view- but North is moving quickly, striding down the long corridor. He reaches a cell, pauses, before turning to face the barred room; metal is far cheaper to manufacture than other, more high-tech options._

_The woman inside is small, pale. She is lying on a narrow, wall-mounted cot, arm flung over her eyes. She flinches, minutely, when the footsteps stop. She startles as the agent calls her name, soft and hushed, sitting up quickly. This calls for secrecy, and there may be others listening. “Hey, Annie-“_

_Her eyes widen in almost comical surprise. It has only been a night, and the bags under her eyes are deep, obvious. While she looks exhausted, there are no obvious injuries, asides from a spattering of bruises on her upper right arm, most likely from being grabbed, roughly. Standing, shakily, she moves over to the bars, keeping a short distance away, as if worried about being grabbed through the bars. Her voice is wavering, a tremor lacing the words. “You- you’re North! What are you doing here?”_

_His face is hidden, but the smile comes through in his voice. A hand moves into frame, curling around one of the bars. Annie edges closer. “West sent me.” The other hand slides into frame, a clear, plastic packet crinkling in his grip. He hands it over. “These are for you.”_

_The woman takes the medication, hand shaking slightly. It is almost unnoticeable, but constant. “…Thank you.” She moves an inch closer, unsure and hesitant. The silence between the two is almost as loud as their words, and neither seems inclined to break it._

_Eventually, the male agent does. With a sheepish undertone, a hand breaks into frame, and the audio picks up on the rustling of North’s hair. “So… how are you feeling?”_

_The woman’s expression goes flat, disbelieving. She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”_

_The frame shakes as the agent crosses his arms, shrugging. He appears flustered, and it comes through in his words, pitching up at the end. “I don’t know, I’m not a medic! I just got sent to bring you those.”_

_The gaunt woman shrugs, wrapping her arms around herself, curling inwards. Already a slight woman, the action made her seem even smaller than she was. “All things considered, I’m okay. Alive at least.”_

_An explosive sigh crackles through the audio, the camera shifting to the side as North shifts his weight. A moment of silence passes before his voice, awkward and low, echoes off the walls. “That’s good? I’m sorry, I got sent to see how you were, but I’m not too sure what to ask.” His voice is earnest but sheepish. “Ah- West said that you got scared when you got brought in?”_

_In the frame, the woman frowns, eyes darting frantically. Satisfied that there is no-one else around, and apparently trusting the agent’s word, she steps closer, voice dropping in pitch. “One of the soldiers is an enforcer for the group I work for. He- I don’t know what he’ll do to me.” She looks up, most likely meeting North’s eyes, so she isn’t facing the camera directly. Her eyes harden, steely for a moment, before the expression slides off her face, seemingly withdrawn. Resigned. “You’re not here to get me out, are you.”_

_A softer sigh is picked up by the camera. The frame shakes slightly, and after a moment of deliberation, the agent’s voice is regretful, soft, but with an undercurrent of determination. “No. We’re planning something big and breaking you out would draw too much attention.”_

_The resigned feeling deepens, the lines on her face becoming harsh. “I understand.” The emotion on her face hardens, face twisting into a snarl, loathing. She gives a jagged laugh, and the agent sighs. That emotion isn’t directed at him, but at herself; it is hard not to pity someone in a metal cage, trapped because of their decisions, their actions. “Why would you want to help someone like me?”_

_He fights to keep the pity from his voice, and it comes through in his tight, clipped tone, a touch of anger leaking out. People often don’t want pity, but anger wasn’t useful either. “Look. I don’t agree with what you’ve been doing.” A tight, restrained sigh crackles over the audio. “But I trust West, and she stood up for you. So, yeah.” _

_The woman’s shoulders slump, and she looks worn, defeated, shoulders slumping down. “I don’t know how much it’s worth, but thanks.” She winds her arms around herself, tightening her grip so much that her knuckles turn white. “I don’t know if I’m gonna come out of this alive.” Her fingers dig into the flesh of her arms, and it looks painful. She laughs again, and the quality is jaded, hollow. “Probably not.”_

_Her head tips downwards, but she brings it back up, slowly, at the agent’s words. Despite his anger, the agent cannot stand injustice or unneeded deaths, so the determination rings clearly through his words. “We’re going to do the best we can to keep you alive, so any help you can give would be appreciated. Can you give us any information on the group you’re working for?”_

_Her shoulders curl inwards again, but she straightens up after a moment, thinking. A frown creases her face, but it is thoughtful, pondering, and a far cry from the expression she had worn not even a minute prior. “I don’t know much-“ She pauses, shaking her head once, as if to clear her head of cobwebs. “Something happened with the supply. It dried up- or one of the higher ups that they bribed stopped accepting, I’m not sure- so I think that’s why they tried to steal from the med bays. I overheard one of the workers say that they were going to try destroy the evidence, but I don’t know how they were gonna do that.” A hand reaches out, curling around a bar, her frown deepening._

_A short pause. “Do you know how many people are in your group?”_

_The woman laughed, self-deprecating. “I’m just a grunt. You think they tell me anything?” The laugh dies quickly, but she draws her eyebrows together, pondering over the question. She appears to be giving it some serious thought. “Maybe thirty? I’m not sure.” The woman falls silent, going incredibly still as she whispers the next words, shame and guilt etched into her posture, her face. “They- they gave me discounts for smuggling the products. I tried to get out but-“_

_The agent sighs, harsh, flat. “I get it.” The camera jerks, sharply, as the agent pulls back, and the frame shows a quick view of the corridor. It is still empty, but loud footsteps echo off the metal walls. They sound unhurried, but numerous, although the echoing masks the true number. The shot slides back over to the cell, and the woman has come forwards, pressing herself against the metal bars, hands gripping them tightly. “Shit, I need to get back. One last thing; someone’s just overdosed. A private called Jones. Do you know him?”_

_She jerks her head in a nod, speaking quickly but quietly, rushing over her words. “Yeah, he was another smuggler. I don’t know him well. It was… discouraged.”_

_The agent moves to face the corridor, angled away from the incoming footsteps. His head is still turned towards the woman, his chin just breaking into frame. “Okay, thank you for telling me. I’ve got to go.”_

_He is already moving away from the cell, but the camera still picks up her parting sentence, just before the agent’s armoured hand reaches up to turn off the camera, obscuring the view of the corridor._

_“Alright. Tell West I said thanks.”_

The medic clicked off the video with a sigh, reclining back into her chair, just as far as her armour would let her. The two twins had left not that long ago, their bickering and bitching a familiar tune, strangely comforting in the profanity and familiarity. Gazing at the black screen of the monitor, she let her mind wander. Annie looked like shit, but otherwise unharmed, asides from a couple of superficial injuries. That was good, all things considering.

She wasn’t afraid to admit that she jumped when the Nurse entered, banging the door loudly. Shooting her friend a dirty look, the medic got a cheeky grin in response, although it softened into a much gentler one a moment later. “How’s Annie?”

West sighed, running a hand through her hair as she sat up straight in her chair, half-turning to face the other woman. “She looks okay, from the video North gave me. How’s the private?”

The woman gave a wry smile, coming in to lean her hip against the door, crossing her arms as she did. Glancing out the door, she watched for a moment before turning back to the medic. “He’s coming around. Vitals are stable, if a bit low. He’s a bit brady- but that’s not surprising. Oxygen sats are pretty good though.”

Giving a grateful smile, West swung her chair around to face the Nurse, who had moved to sit in the cot opposite the medic. She nudged the other woman’s boot with the toe of her own, retreating after a second of contact. “Thank you so much for helping cover him.”

The Nurse laughed. “It’s no problem.” She paused for a moment, contemplating something. “I’m surprised that we haven’t seen more overdoses.”

“That’s what I said! But it sounds like this drug ring’s been around for longer than we thought, so maybe they just got a bit careless.” Scowling, the medic crossed her arms, slumping back in her chair with a huff. The Nurse smiled, nudging the medic’s foot again.

“Or a bit cocky.”

The medic laughed. “Or that.” She trailed off after a moment, giving a faint sigh, smile fading into a slight frown. The Nurse’s gaze softened, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, deliberating.

The other woman paused, before giving an explosive sigh, looking up determinedly, a soft red starting to spread from her ears across her cheeks, hidden slightly by the tanned skin. “West, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I know that we aren’t that close, but I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed a bit stressed and down pretty recently. I wanted to ask if everything was alright? I know something’s going on, but I wanted to say that you can talk to me if you need to.” The woman looked away from the redhead, directing the end of her speech towards the ground in a rush, ears a burning red, embarrassed and a touch flustered.

West responded with her own embarrassment, a responsive blush spreading over her own face. When had the Nurse become so worried? She hadn’t noticed, and a streak of guilt flashed through her. It didn’t occur to the medic that her friend had picked up on her mood, and she frowned, curling in on herself as her guilt of making her worry rose up. 

“Ah- Thanks. I appreciate it.” West wanted to say ‘_I’m fine.’ _That the Nurse shouldn’t be worried. That the medic was _okay. _West opened her mouth, closed it.

_But **was** she? That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?_

“I…” The Nurse was looking at her kindly, expression warring between concern and an openness that implied no judgement. West looked to the floor, squeezing her eyes shut. _She- she needed to talk to someone. This wasn’t healthy. None of it was. She needed to have the bravery and enough insight into herself to recognise that._ “I’m not sure where to start.”

The Nurse reached out to take her hand, squeezing it slightly. “Wherever you feel comfortable.”

West gave a jagged laugh, reaching up with her free hand to tug her fingers through her ponytail. “I’m- fuck, I’m a bit of a mess. I’m angry at the Director, I’m fuckin’ terrified of what he might do, and I don’t know how this whole thing is going to end.” She broke off with a sharp inhale, blinking quickly. “And-“ She sniffed, wiping quickly at her nose which had started to run. With a croaky voice, she went on. “I’m worried about Zeta. He pulled himself so I haven’t had a chance to talk to him- but yeah. I don’t know. Ah, shit. Sorry.”

The Nurse squeezed her hand with a soft smile. “Don’t apologise, West. That’s a lot to carry. You haven’t spoken to anyone about this?”

“I’ve spoken to Z a little bit, but no. No-one else.” She huffed out a short laugh. “There hasn’t been much time.”

The Nurse smiled, dry but understanding. “It’s been a bit hectic, hasn’t it?”

“That’s an understatement.” Her smile in response was sad, almost, self-deprecating. “Besides, everyone’s got their own shit. I didn’t want to hassle anyone.”

The Nurse huffed, pinching the medic’s hand, and giving her a stern glare as the other woman tried to pull back with a wince. “You aren’t a hassle, West. I’m sure that any one of your team would be there to listen if you asked them. It’s pretty obvious that you guys care a lot about each other.”

The medic managed to extract her hand, rubbing at the pinch site, giving a mock glare in response, the Nurse raising a flat eyebrow in return. “Yeah.”

A loud crash echoed from the main treatment area, the Nurse giving a short, frustrated groan. It seemed that their patient was awake, and the two shared a knowing, humorous look as West dried her eyes. “There’s never enough time around here, is there?” She stood, shifting on her feet, needing to go and check, but unwilling to leave the office. “I would ask if you wanted to make a time to talk, but-“

West laughed, a sly grin pulling at her lips in contrast to the bright red blush that was highlighting every freckle on her cheeks. She was pale, she couldn’t help it! “Like a date?”

It was meant to be teasing, just an offhand comment, but the Nurse’s blush appeared to deepen, and she smiled shyly, meeting West’s eye after a moment. _Oh shit. When did that happen? _The Nurse laughed after a moment, loud and cheerful at the comment. “Is that supposed to be flirting? That was terrible.”

The medic grinned, sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck. It didn’t seem possible, but she felt her blush deepen, spreading to her neck and covering her cheeks and ears. Oof, that was embarrassing. But it didn’t seem like the Nurse was against the idea, and when West thought it over for a moment, she found she wasn’t against the idea either. “Yeah, it was, sorry.”

The other woman didn’t seem to care- her own blush was as bad as, if not worse, than hers. Her fond grin didn’t hint at a rebuke though. “Maybe after all this stuff is cleared up. Something’s going to happen, soon, isn’t it?”

“I’ll hold you to that.” The medic laughed, grinning, but she quickly sobered. “Yeah, within the next few days. Hopefully we can sort this stuff out quietly, but who knows. We’ll see.”

Moving forwards quickly, she touched West’s hand gently before retreating, moving towards the door, her jittery and short movements betraying her nerves at the revelation. “I best get back to it. Did you want to have lunch together?”

Sitting up straighter, the medic smiled, brightly, hopeful and nervous all in one. “Sure, I can go steal something from the mess a bit later.” Her expression turned sheepish, and she motioned to the monitor on the desk. The Nurse gave a knowing smile and nodded. “I- ah, need to finish some stuff up here, but I’ll let you know when I’m going?”

“Sounds good.” With a wave, the Nurse turned from the office, moving over to deal with their patient. Once she had left the room, and was occupied by the patient, the medic spun in her chair once and resisted the urge to giggle in excitement. _Ah, fuck. What age was she, twelve?_

The medic paused, already rethinking the conversation. When the hell had _that_ happened? With West and romance, she tended to find herself attracted to people suddenly and strongly, but usually after she’d known the person for a while and once they’d become a good friend. The Nurse had become a friend, as people usually did when working closely together, and thinking it over, she wasn’t averse to testing the waters with a date or two.

And the Nurse was a genuinely good person. She was kind, with a subtle sense of humour, and wasn’t afraid to say what she thought, especially if it meant sticking up for her patient’s care. West didn’t really know much about her, but she wouldn’t mind getting to know the woman.

But she was right. It was too dangerous now, too messy with all the shit going on to pursue a relationship. Still- the medic hadn’t had something to look forwards to for a long time. And, thinking about it, she hadn’t considered what she was going to do after this whole shitshow, this whole war. If she was honest with herself – and this was _really _introspective of her – she truly hadn’t thought she would be alive after the whole ordeal. Maybe after the Freelancer business, yes, but the war?

How should she explain this? She wasn’t _trying _to die. She didn’t head into things with the sole purpose of getting herself killed. She _wanted _to survive. But being a solider in a war that seemed never-ending; it made everything rather bleak, and West had come to the realisation that there was every possibility that she _would _die in this war. She was only human, and being confronted with such pain and death, day after day after day- it certainly made her contemplate her own mortality.

That- that was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it? And compounded with the constant trauma she had endured since the beginning of this whole fucking thing certainly didn’t help – if anything, it made her strongly consider the possibility that she wasn’t going to survive. It certainly threatened motivation to fight, to keep going – if she was just going to die, why keep fighting?

But that wasn’t a healthy way to think. At best, she was just being a passive observer, and at worse, sounded like she had some- that she was considering-

_Come on, West. Lay the facts down straight. You **need **to address this. It’s about time._

Okay. At worse, it made her sound like she had some degree of suicidal ideation. She wanted to draw away from that reality, deny it, refuse to believe it, but it was _true._

That wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t normal. Maybe it was because of the war, and maybe it was because of the trauma. She could say that she didn’t have time to address her way of thinking, dismiss it and keep on going like she was. But it wasn’t _healthy_, and if she kept going the way she was, who knew where she’d eventually end up? Maybe not ending her own life with her own hands, but by an alien rifle on the battlefield. Or a skirmish with a group of aggressive rebels. Or a million other possibilities.

It was hard, with the war still going on. It was even harder being someone who responded to such acute trauma so often, and since she couldn’t say _no- _it wasn’t an option, to leave. People needed her. But she needed to take care of herself. She needed to address her thoughts, her trauma. She needed to take a more active role in looking after her own mental health. It was a hard reality, but for this, she needed to put herself first.

West needed to talk to someone. Zeta, the Nurse, even Doc. It might be hard the first time; she might cry, her emotions might get the better of her, she might find it hard to open up. But these were her friends, who _cared_ about her. Supported her. If she couldn’t open up to them, who could she open up to? And, each time she’d speak about, well, everything- the easier it would get. She might not be a hundred percent, but she could be _better._

She could _change._


	38. Chapter 38

Silence reigned for a couple of minutes, the tapping of the keyboard the only noise in the office. Pressing her lips together, West let out a faint sigh, ignoring the urge to bang her head on the table. “…I need to talk to someone.” Typing quickly, she copied the video that North had gotten for her, transferring it to her armour’s hard drive, tapping her fingers rapidly on the desk in agitation. “I’m putting this off. Come  _ on,  _ West, Z’s your friend.”

Leaning back in her chair, she rested her head back, closing her eyes and exhaling. She… wasn’t great with conversations like this. But time was running out and she needed to get Zeta ready for tomorrow. Guilt spiked through her chest, constricting. This was so  _ shit.  _ All this bullshit, all this trauma, and they couldn’t do anything to remedy it. They didn’t have a choice.

Tapping the port on her armour, she activated the neural pathway between her armour’s storage, Zeta and her own head. The medic felt it when her AI activated, both experiencing varying degrees of caution and hesitation.  _ Great. _ “Hey, Z.” 

The AI wasn’t looking at her. His behaviour seemed almost standoffish, but West could feel his conflict and pain.  _ Z, come on. I just want to talk. _ _ Please? _

_ >>Hi.>> _

“Z, we need to talk.”  _ Yes _ ! He was responding! Giving a short exhale, the woman ran her hands through her hair before reaching out to cradle Z’s hologram in her palms, giving a soft smile. “About a lot of stuff. I know you haven’t had much time to process, but how are you going?”

Zeta laughed, dryly and without humour, voice fracturing at the end. 

_ >>A few hours feels more like an eternity for an AI.>>  _

He paused and wrinkled his nose; West could feel his frustration brushing against her own mind, despite the barriers and distance he was trying to keep. The medic supposed it was protective- she didn’t really know much about  _ AI _ mental health but she did know a fair bit about  _ human  _ mental health, and since AI were modelled off of human brains…

She was doing the best she could, given the circumstances. 

_ >>I’ve… I’m->>  _

He broke off with an angry snort, flinging an arm to the side, his hologram flickering rapidly. West just let her hands hover, not pushing. He’d tell her how he was feeling, and then they could work on working through the emotions and everything that had built up.

_ >>I  _ ** _ know _ ** _ that I’m having a response to a traumatic situation. I’m dissociating, I’m withdrawing, I’m angry- This is  _ ** _ normal _ ** _ . I keep telling myself that, but- it still  _ ** _ hurts _ ** _ . I don’t know what to do.>> _

Z paused, seeming to fold in on himself, and West caught a soft mutter, more to himself than anything else. 

_ >>What  _ ** _ can _ ** _ I do?>> _

“That’s-“ The medic gave a short laugh, dissolving into a rueful smile. “That’s the issue, isn’t it? Emotions are hard, and even if we tell ourselves something else, we still  _ feel.  _ You… you have every right to feel angry and withdrawn.”

The AI started to pace in the air, still flickering. He seemed to be warring with himself. West held her tongue, waiting. Sometimes it was good to just sit and listen. 

_ >>I  _ ** _ know _ ** _ . And I know it’s good that I have insight, that I’m able to recognise this in myself, but I’m so angry. Why would they do that? Why would they torture the  _ ** _ Alpha _ ** _ ->> _

His voice began to distort, breaking off as Z took a stabilising breath and seemed to collect himself. 

_ >>I wouldn’t exist if they hadn’t tortured him. But- I can’t agree with that. I just  _ ** _ can’t _ ** _ . I’m- my main role is to help people! To help  _ ** _ you _ ** _ . Hearing that I exist because of  _ ** _ torture _ ** _ ->> _

West sighed, reaching up to cradle his hologram, which had stopped pacing. “It’s conflicting. Your main purpose is to help others, and this conflicts directly with what you believe in. It’s completely understandable for you to feel the way you are.”

Zeta gave a despondent laugh. 

_ >>I know.>>  _

Giving a short huff, he gave her a knowing look, raising an eyebrow. 

_ >>I recognise the techniques you’re using on me.>> _

“Don’t give me that. You do the same for me.” The medic smiled, poking the hologram. It was true though! Give them ten minutes and he’d probably be using the same methods for engaging people having crises like this on her.

The laugh he gave that time seemed to be less hopeless, the medic’s smile widening slightly in response. Humour was a good protective factor for people going through trauma- and yeah, it wasn’t all that funny, but when faced with something like this, what else could you do? Well, cry. Considering how she normally reacted when having conversations like this, that was probably next.

It was hard, trying to help manage the emotions of someone who was so intimately tied to her; she kept wanting to put her nursing hat and her medic hat on, to rationalise and to  _ help,  _ but emotions were funny things and honestly didn’t give a shit about being rational. West supposed it was the same for Z; she was his operator, her friend, and they were too tied up in each other to manage without having some minor outbursts. 

Of course, they didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but they were both doing their bests. 

_ >>I suppose it doesn’t help when we both have the training to deal with incidents like this.>>  _

His fierce expression had softened somewhat, looking back at West, who raised an eyebrow. 

_ >>I’ll be alright->> _

That eyebrow went straight back down. “Nope! No, don’t give me that. You know perfectly well that pushing your feelings to the side isn’t helpful in the long run.” She wasn’t going to let Z deflect this! He knew just as well as her that brushing it off wasn’t healthy- and yeah, Z wasn’t human. But he was based on a human brain, and he still felt and experienced emotions. She wasn’t going to let him go through this alone. It wasn’t fair. 

Zeta paused, deliberating, cautiously brushing against her mind, reading her own emotions and previous thoughts. 

_ >>…What about you? It feels like you’ve been considering some things.>> _

She raised that eyebrow back up. “We’re not talking about me, Zeta.”

The AI groaned. 

_ >>I know that I need to work through this.>>  _

He paused, sombre, a shadow of his grief falling over the two of them. 

_ >>But we don’t have time, do we?>> _

_ No, they didn’t. _ “…Yeah. It sucks. We don’t have much of a choice, and the fact that we don’t have that agency is frustrating. But we can at least start talking about it now, so it doesn’t pile up later.”

The little shit just crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, giving her an obviously knowing look.

The medic groaned, knowing how that sounded and what that meant. “ _ Yeah _ , I know I’ve got my own shit.” She exhaled, sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I realised that my… way of thinking about the war and about other stuff isn’t particularly healthy.”

Z’s expression softened a touch. He probably understood what she was getting at since they shared a headspace, but sometimes it was better to let people explain. She appreciated that.

_ >>What do you mean?>> _

Leaning back in her chair, she gave a long, slow exhale, considering how to word this. “I never really considered what I was going to do once the war was over. I suppose I never really thought that I would  _ survive  _ the war. I’m not trying to die, but-“ She broke off with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair, with Z continuing the thought. 

_ >>You’d come to terms with it?>> _

“Yeah, I suppose it’s something like that. And-“ She paused, struggling for a moment. Taking a breath, she continued on. “I’ve been supressing a lot of my emotions for a long time. I never really had the chance or the space to work through this sort of shit, since I’ve never really had the time.” Snorting at how that sounded, she gave a wry smile but went on. “Not that that’s an excuse. I suppose it got to the point where I didn’t want to address what I was feeling. I’m not at breaking point, but I’m finding it hard to cope, and that’s only going to get worse with time.“ 

Why did any time she tried to share her emotions and thoughts she started bawling? She’d totally called it, feeling the hot, prickly feeling start to build up behind her eyes. For a moment, she considered trying to hold back her tears, but- it was just the two of them, wasn’t it? Z was her friend. Her partner. She… she could afford to let down her guard with him. If she could trust him with her life, then why couldn’t she trust him with this? 

The AI brushed against her mind again, offering comfort. West had the feeling that if Z could cry, he’d probably be doing just that. She felt scraped out and a little bit raw, but… more settled. Z sighed, but smiled, laughing slightly.

_ >>We’re both a mess, aren’t we?>> _

“Just a little bit.” She laughed, wetly, wiping at her face with her hands. “I’m glad you’re with me, Zeta.”

He smiled at her fondly, affection curling against her. The other stuff was still there, but… they’d taken the right step. Both of them. And once this was all over, they could heal. Maybe not to the point of before- West didn’t think she’d ever be the same as she was before this war, but maybe that was okay. 

_ >>Me too.>> _

As if that signalled the end of the conversation, the AI straightened, attention disappearing elsewhere for a moment as he got lost in thought. She could feel him rifling through some of the messages she’d been sent, tilting her head curiously at the flow of data. It was too much for her to properly comprehend, but she was confident that Z would show her any flagged messages. 

_ >>I better link to Delta and the others. It looks as though you’ve got company.>>  _

Zeta’s hologram disappeared with a slight flash of light, prompting the medic to look up at the cyan agent hovering awkwardly by the entrance of the office. The Nurse was looking worriedly on from the bedside of their newest overdose patient but looked slightly less worried when West gave her a quick smile and a small thumbs up. She shook her head with what looked like a short laugh before she turned her attention back to their patient.

Carolina coughed, slightly, and the medic drew her attention back to the hovering agent. “Am I interrupting anything?” The woman stepped inside and seemed to notice the tear tracks coursing down the medic’s cheeks. “West- are you alright?”

West laughed, hiccupping slightly, but smiling as she wiped her cheeks. “I’m in the wars a little bit. Z and I were just having a talk about… stuff. I would say I’m okay, but that wouldn’t be entirely truthful.”

The other agent gave her a soft, knowing smile. “…I don’t think anyone’s really okay.” Shifting awkwardly, she crossed her arms and looked off to the side. Carolina looked tense as fuck, but West appreciated what she was trying to say. “Look, West, if you want to talk, I’m here if you need me. I know I’m not great with this sort of stuff-“

West smiled, pushing her chair back slightly to allow for the other agent, who came further into the room, still hovering. “Thank you, Carolina. I- uh, I appreciate this. Maybe once this is over?”

“Sure.” The cyan agent shifted on her feet again, focus sharpening. “I came to let you know that I spoke to Cerberus and Maine.”

_ Oh! _ “And? Are they going to help us?”

The other redhead nodded, relief breaking through the tense scowl. “They are. It took- well, there was a bit of arguing and a lot of screaming- but Church and I managed to convince Cerb that what the Director- what dad was doing-“ She gave a tense sigh, brows drawn together in a tight frown. “That it wasn’t right.” She gave a short chuckle, continuing. “I almost thought that we wouldn’t be able to convince him.”

“You’re his family, ‘Lina. You and Church mean a lot to him.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say as the agent laughed, slightly, as she remembered the conversation. “The twins were the sticking point. Cerb wants to keep them but the Director didn’t. Church pointed that out, and after that we managed to get him to agree to help us- within reason, West, don’t give me that look! After that, Maine was swayed pretty easily.”

The medic laughed, but- that reminded her. She wasn’t the only agent with an AI. “What about Sigma?”

Uh-oh. That look didn’t signal anything good. “I ordered Maine to have Sigma pulled for the time being. He was my AI, but- something about him strikes me as  _ wrong.  _ I can’t shake the feeling that we shouldn’t put our trust in him. We can’t have this backfire now.”

She wasn’t wrong. ”Yeah. I haven’t had the best interactions with Sigma, so I reckon it’s for the best. I don’t really trust him either, especially seeing how he acts with Maine.” West leant back in her chair, crossing her arms. “There’s Guardian as well. Shit, I almost forgot about him. How do we deal with an  _ alien _ _ AI?” _

That didn’t seem to be much of an issue, going by Carolina’s body language. “Well, Cerb said that Guardian wouldn’t be much of a problem. He apparently hates the Director and how he’s treated Cerberus, so he was on board before Cerb was. Not that I could understand him- but that’s what Cerb was saying.” She gave a disbelieving snort, which West echoed.  _ Fucking figures. _

Silence fell for a moment as West deliberated the information. “So, what now?”

Z took that at the perfect moment to blink into the room, hologram more stable than he’d been previously, to West’s silent sigh of relief. He nodded to their squad leader, who gave a respectful nod back, smiling slightly at the tiny red and black hologram.

_ >>Hello Carolina.>> _

Carolina inclined her head at the AI. “Zeta. You have something to say?”

_ >>Yes. West, I just spoke to Delta. He’s sent through the plans for tomorrow.>> _

West straightened, starting to flick through the document that the other AI had sent. Carolina had the same idea, bringing the information up with a soft noise of recognition. “Ah, I just received them as well. Hm. N’s going to jam the doors for all the sleeping quarters, while Simmons is going after the armoury. Not what I would’ve done, but I trust Delta and York. Lord knows why.” Laughing slightly, she gave a fond smile at the thought of her partner. West just smiled at the expression on Carolina’s face; anyone who couldn’t see the love and affection there was honestly blind. 

_ >>Delta wants us to go with Carolina and Tex as we have more combat experience. Doc is going to be stationed at Recovery with the Nurse and the other medical personnel.>> _

That took a moment to register, the medic squawking out a: “Wait,  _ what?”  _ while Carolina just nodded, tapping on her datapad with a thoughtful expression. 

“It makes more sense then Doc coming with us. You have more combat experience, so if things get hairy, you can look after yourself. Providing that N and Simmons do their jobs, Tex, Church, Cerb and I are going to be in the most dangerous position. Well, and you.” Her attention had focused on the battle ahead, but her expression fractured minutely as the doubts started to creep in. “I- I don’t know how this is going to play out.”

The medic gave a resigned sigh. “I don’t think any of us do.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, screwing her eyes shut. “0700 hours tomorrow morning. Fuck. It’s going to end one way or another, isn’t it?”

The other woman was silent for a beat. “Yeah, I suppose it will, won’t it?” Glancing back into Recovery, she returned her gaze to West, giving a short, tense smile. “I best head off. I still have a few more house calls to make. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Waving the cyan agent off, West returned the smile. “See you then, Carolina.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
Holy crap. It's done. I've decided to finish the story that's taken me far too fucking long to finish. Thank you to everyone who's reached this far - I truly appreciate it! Maybe I've rushed this but if I don't get it done now, I'm never finishing it.  
Anyway, any and all mistakes are my own and hope everyone is staying safe!  
Thank you for reading,   
Delirious

Today was the day. Today was _the _day. Holy fuck. West was- well, to say she was nervous was an understatement. The fact that she’d gotten barely any sleep certainly hadn’t helped- she was jittery and wired and _fuck, would she need this equipment- who knew what today would be like-_

So she was nervous. She was also currently stress-packing in Recovery, making sure she had all her equipment, and double and triple and quadruple-checking her pack. Maybe she was overdoing it? But no, what if she needed those bandages? Her equipment was strewn over the floor and her pack was starting to look a little lumpy on one side, bulging out in places where she’d crammed stuff in. It’d taken five minutes to get the zip done up.

The medic was also talking to herself, mumbling under her breath as she packed. “Okay, I have no idea what today is gonna end up like, so it’s better to prepare for everything, right?”

A problem with sharing your headspace with an AI fragment- emotions tended to compound. Zeta was nervous, which was affecting West and making _her _nervous. It was a fairly destructive spiral.

_>>West, you’ve prepared for every possible scenario that we could **both** come up with.>>_

West sighed, fidgeting with another zipper. “Yeah, I _know. _But who knows how this will end?”

_>>I don’t know.>>_

Neither did she. That was probably the biggest problem and what was making her nervous and jittery the most. It _sucked _not knowing. Why the fuck was she going? Her hands stilled over her pack, and she returned them to her lap where she sat cross-legged on the group. “This is going to change _everything_.” She let out a shaky, high laugh. “I’m kinda terrified.”

_>>Yeah, me too.>>_

Zeta smiled a despondent, small thing that made the medic want to cradle him in her hands. She hated seeing a smile like that on Z. It didn’t fit. The AI sighed, locking eyes with West.

_>>We should go. It’s getting close to the meeting time and we need to meet with Carolina, Tex and the others.>>_

It took a moment, but she pulled the courage to stand. "I suppose it's showtime, isn't it?"

The rendezvous point was a hallway a couple of meters down from the Director's office, tucked away but big enough to hold the five of them comfortably. West was the last one there, rounding the corner to find Carolina in discussion with the others, almost huddled together. Carolina turned to face her as West came up to them, folding her into their huddle. Church looked pale, his face drawn; Tex was stony, and incredibly, incredibly still; Cerberus was curled in on himself against the wall. They all looked- well, like shit.

Carolina gave West a short smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “West. The morning briefing is almost over, so we were just discussing what we were going to say to the Director and the Counsellor.”

The morning briefing lasted from 0700 to 0730, where the Director would return to his office with the Counsellor. This was the best time to approach them as they were alone and it would give their group the best opportunity to say their part.

Tex tossed her head to the other female agent. “Carolina’s taking point. She’ll explain to the Director that we want him to resign along with the Counsellor and Church and I will provide the evidence about the AI. And no, Church, you can’t tell the Director to fuck off, as much as you want to.” The blond looked like she wanted to stick her tongue out but barely refrained.

The man in question just snorted, giving her an almost fond look. “Killjoy. You can’t punch him either. Fair’s fair.” Tex just grinned, a feral look. That grin had too many teeth and held the implication of violence. Oh boy.

Carolina cut the two off with a sharp look. Tex rolled her eyes, not cowed, but Church leant back against the wall. “Alright, enough. West, would you like to talk about the ethical implications? Or Cerberus, would you like to say anything? I understand if you don’t want to say anything.”

What was this, school? The medic shook her head with a short, sharp laugh. “Fuck, it’s not fair if you lot have all the fun. I’ll say my bit. Cerb?”

The agent was quiet for a heartbeat but nodded. “…I want to talk too.”

Appeased, Carolina nodded. “Alright. Do I need to remind everyone that this is a _civil_ mission and that violence is a last resort? Our objective is to depose the Director and the Counsellor and to take over Project Freelancer. Is that understood?”

Everyone in their small group chimed their assent, although no-one seemed overly enthusiastic. West didn’t blame them. She wasn’t looking forward to this and the others weren’t either.

Carolina nodded, once, before turning to West. “Okay. Everyone on me. West, can you get Zeta to send the message out? The teams need to be ready to act if something goes wrong.” Zeta popped up at West’s shoulder, casting his red light across their faces. He looked unusually grave but nodded.

_>>Of course Carolina. All of the AI are sending regular updates and all agents are ready to act should things deteriorate.>>_

The agent nodded, exhaling sharply from her nose. “Thank you, Zeta. Alright, let’s go. It’s time.”

(Everyone heads to the Director’s office. Carolina enters first, then Tex, Cerberus, Church and West. The Director and Counsellor are conversing, and both look up when the group enter. There are no guards, everything is dead quiet.)

With Carolina leading, they made their way towards the Director’s office. Tex was behind Carolina, Church’s hand clamped in hers in a death grip, Cerberus following behind the pair. West brought up the rear, shouldering her pack. _Alright, let’s finish this._

The silence was chilling as they entered the room. The Director was sitting at the far end of the room at his desk, the Counsellor at his side. A monitor was pulled up in front of the two, and it appeared that they had been discussing the movement of UNSC troops, on a cursory glance. The screen powered down a second after West saw it, allowing her to experience the full brunt of the Director's icy glare. The Counsellor appeared bemused but faintly condescending as if enjoying the scene.

Carolina had reached about a metre from the desk when the Director spoke, sounding almost surprised at seeing the agents in front of him. “Carolina. _Tex_. What is the meaning of this?”

The Counsellor gave a small, knowing smile. “It appears that they have something to say.”

Squaring her shoulders, Carolina spoke to the man in front of her. Her posture radiated defence and nerves, but West had to admire her stubbornness. “Father. _Director. _I’m not going to mince my words. We’ve come to ask you to step down as Director and hand over control of Project Freelancer to the agents.”

The Director narrowed his eyes, sweeping a dismissive hand towards them. “That’s a bold claim. And what motivation would you have to demand such a thing?”

While West couldn’t see Carolina’s face, she noticed the full-body flinch that that sentence provoked. _Oh boy, this wasn’t good_. Carolina’s fists were clenched at her side, and she was _trembling. _“You’ve been abusing us, _manipulating us, _for your own gain!” Throwing an arm out, she moved so fast that you could hear the air move around her. The Director, while not moving, stilled noticeably, and Carolina reigned herself in, taking an audible breath. “You haven’t given a shit about us – about _any _of us – from the start. And we’re _done. _I’m **_done_**_. _I’m done with being pitted against my friends, I’m done with the abuse, and I’m done with having you for a father. I’m so _tired_ of feeling this way, of the way _you _make me feel. And I know I’m not alone. That’s why we’ve come together.”

The Director pressed his lips together into a thin line, linking his fingers together on his desk. Cocking his head, he addressed all of them. “If you’ve felt so strongly about this, why haven’t you raised this with the Counsellor or I?”

Church growled and jerked forwards, only to be pulled back by Tex. “You piece of _shit_-“

The Director seemed less concerned about an angry Church than an angry Carolina, turning his attention to Tex, who barked out a sharp; “**_Church_**.” The cobalt agent stilled, glaring and muttering swears under his breath. Tex jutted her chin out, her glare rivalling the Director’s, who just appeared impassive now. “We have evidence of multiple counts of abuse, medical malpractice and torture of a smart AI. That’s just the _start _of the list.”

The man just seemed to not fucking care, holy shit. Did he not think they’d come prepared? Leaning back slightly, he raised a salt and pepper eyebrow. “Where is this so-called evidence?”

Tex pulled the flash drive from her armour, tossing it on the desk. The Director and Counsellor flicked their attentions to it briefly, before sharing a quick gaze. The Counsellor tilted his head, in a considering manner which fucking grated. “I’m assuming that there are multiple copies of this, as well as a physical version of this evidence?”

Church gave a jagged, bitter laugh. “Yeah, dipshit, how dumb do you think we are?” The silence from the Counsellor was his answer. “Wow. _Wow. _You're a piece of shit, aren't you?"

Seeing a break in the conversation, West stepped forwards, sharing her own glance with Carolina and Tex. They both nodded, so she continued. Time for her bit. Taking a deep breath, she went on, attempting to keep her voice as level and professional as possible. “The agents of the Project are willing to provide evidence of the medical abuse they were subjected to by the Counsellor. The Project is also in breach of several ethical guidelines which concern consent, benevolence and non-maleficence. This is in direct breach of several intergalactic laws that Project Freelancer fall under."

Oh, great, now the Director was looking at her. Fuck, if that wasn’t _bloody unnerving._ “And from my understanding, the reason why you haven’t taken this to the _proper authorities _is that you believe that your little group can strong-arm me into giving up control of the thing I've worked so _hard _for?”

“Yeah, I thought that was pretty fuckin’ obvious?” Church’s scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms, seemingly to keep himself from moving forwards. “You’re supposed to be our _dad_. Someone who cares for us. But nope, you don’t give two shits. Mum died, and you stop caring? Like, yeah, it’s _shit. _Your wife died. I get it. But she was our _mum. _We were grieving too! It seems like that when she died, you died too. Carolina and I, we lost two parents. There’s no excuse for what you’ve put us through.”

The Director was silent, face impassive. “What is the point to this spiel?”

Church stormed forwards, slamming his hands on the desk in front of him. To his credit, the Director didn’t even flinch, and he tilted his head up to look at his son. “Oh for fuck’s sake- it’s not right! We’re your _family_!”

Well, that seemed to be enough to break the Director’s normally impassive and cold demeanour as he shot to his feet, bracing himself on his desk. “_And there’s a **war** going on! _You have no idea how _much _I gave up for this!”

Church spluttered as Tex grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, hauling him backwards. With that, the tension in the room eased somewhat; not much, mind you, but West didn’t feel quite like a fight was going to break out. Tex barked out a sharp: “Alright, **_enough.” _**That brokered no arguing with. Turning to face the man in front, her voice was very soft. That was somehow scarier than anything the medic had heard from Tex. “Director, you better shut the fuck up, _right now, _or this is going to get very ugly, very fast.”

“Physical threats. Tch. Get out of my office. **Now**.”

There was a quiet scoff from next to West as Cerberus raised his voice. “She’s right. Shut the fuck up.”

The Director lowered his arm. “Cerberus, I never thought you would fight against me.”

The alien closed his eyes, clenching them shut. “Yeah, I never thought I would either. I never knew any better, so why would I?” Opening them, he laughed, bitterly. “You brought me up, you raised me. But you also _experimented _on me and tortured me! It took me way too fuckin' long to realise that you were _wrong.” _He paused, giving a short sigh. He seemed very weary and incredibly tired. “I’m keeping my kids. It’s my body and my choice. I don’t answer to you anymore.”

The Counsellor motioned to the group, attempting to weasel his way into the conversation. He seemed to shrink back under the weight of their collective scowls and glares, which was certainly gratifying. “Now, if we all sit down, I’m sure we can come to a reasonable conclusion to this issue.”

The Director snorted, waving his hand. “No, they’ve made their opinions clear.” He sat heavily in his chair, moving to press a button on his console. “I’m assuming that the rest of your little gang are in on this? The guards will escort you to the brig. They will be here shortly.”

Carolina gave a frustrated growl, pacing forwards. “We can _ruin you. _Do you understand that? If you arrest us, we release this evidence to the UNSC. The Project can still be used for _good.”_

The man scoffed. “And what do you suggest we do?”

Carolina drew herself up, towering over the man in his seat. “_Leave. _We’ll let you go and live your life in peace. Sign over control of the Project to me and the other agents and then leave with your men.”

The Director shook his head, in disbelief. “You aren’t giving us any choice, are you?” He gave a bitter laugh, a jagged smile taking over his face. “My own children, betraying me. And what of the Project? The AI? You’ll not just ruin me, you’ll ruin my life’s work.”

Alright, that was _enough_. West crossed her arms, fixing him with a stern glare. “Bloody hell, could you knock off the victim bullshit? We’ll give everyone the option to leave or stay and we’ll work with the AI to re-align the Project into something that doesn’t _hurt people.”_

The man laughed again, despondent. “We’re fighting a war. Do you really think that playing by the rules will win? The human race must be prepared to do anything to survive. Don't you see that?"

West made forwards, ready to lecture him on how fucking _dumb _that was, but Z beat her to the punch, appearing on her shoulder, flickering agitatedly.

_ >>I’m not human, but even I can tell that this is wrong. I am based on the **Alpha**, who is based on **you**. How can you resort to **torture **to further your goals?>>_

The medic glanced at her AI, sharing a look before she closed her eyes briefly with a sigh. “War makes us do shitty, terrible things. But we can still do _right _by people. Sacrificing our dignity, our morals- we’ll lose everything about what makes us human.”

The Director just shook his head. _We’re never going to convince him that he’s wrong._ “Hm. I suppose there’s no convincing you. Tex? You look like you have something to say.”

The blonde agent sighed, levelling the man with a steady, furious gaze- one that promised a spark that promised hell. “Yeah, I do. I am **not** your wife. I am **not** a replacement. You’ve favoured me from the beginning, and I’m sick of it. The way you treat your own family- _fuck, _it makes me fuckin' angry. You look at me and see your wife. But I’m not. You need to take responsibility for your grief and _stop taking it out on others. _On **_us_**_. _We’ve all lost people and it’s _shit. _But Church is right. It’s no excuse.”

Strangely enough, that was what got through to the Director. Maybe he was too far gone, and projecting his grief onto someone that didn’t want that sort of weight; would he ever truly realise what he was doing to his family? It said something about his mindset that he favoured the word of a woman who resembled his dead wife over his two children. West… she didn’t know if he would ever gain insight into his actions. What she could see, however, was a sad, tormented old man, curling in on himself as the woman he was projecting onto told him to take responsibility. “…How long?”

Carolina, seeing that her father had accepted his fate, had closed off. Maybe she realised that Tex had gotten through to him and what that meant? “As soon as possible. The Counsellor will stand down and you will both leave by the end of the day. Is that understood?”

The man laughed, seemingly smaller than before. "I suppose this is the best option, isn't it? My agents, my _family- _who can I trust? No-one I suppose. Maybe the UNSC would be kinder.”

The Counsellor was frozen, staring at the man in the chair. “Director, we can’t just step down- we’ve worked so hard for this Project-“

Giving a long sigh, the Director closed his eyes, resigned. “Aiden, thank you for your service. You are dismissed from duty.”

The other man spluttered, incapable of accepting his or the Director’s resignation “I cannot believe this- you would just _leave-“_

“We don’t have much of a choice, I’m afraid.” Turning to fix his gaze on the medic, he motioned for her to come closer. She approached his desk, less wary now; he was like a snake with no venom or teeth- more or less harmless. “Agent West Australia, would you please call AI Zeta? I will require his assistance to complete my resignation and hand over control to Agent Carolina, and I will assume that you will want to observe to make sure I do what I say.”

West gave a sharp nod. The AI appeared at her shoulder, listening before he flickered as connected with the console on the desk. “Zeta, if you would?”

_>>If you give me a moment, I will finalise the paperwork that confirms the Director’s resignation and the promotion of Carolina to his vacant position.>>_

A copy of the proper paperwork appeared on the desktop, the relevant fields highlighted. Zeta nodded to the section where the Director needed to sign.

_>>There. Director, if you would?>>_

The AI motioned for Carolina to come closer, nodding at the Director.

_>>Thank you. Carolina?>>_

Zeta flickered rapidly for a moment, seemingly processing.

_>>All paperwork is valid as according to UNSC guidelines and local laws. It’s… it’s done.>>_

And that was that. Now that they had completed what they had come in for, what were they meant to do? This was incredibly awkward. The previous Director pinched his nose, exhaling loudly. “If you would all leave my office, please?”

Zeta was still flickering at West’s shoulder. She could feel his astonishment and utter shock, rebounding off of hers. Holy _shit. _Still, he addressed Carolina before he disappeared.

_>>Director Carolina, the previous Director must leave the Mother of Invention by the end of the day, or otherwise, he and the Counsellor will be seen as trespassers and may be arrested.>>_

Carolina seemed to be as shocked as them. “Thank- Thank you Zeta.”

It all seemed to happen without much fanfare. West and the others left the office in silence, managing to head back to their initial rendezvous point before Church gave up and slumped against the wall. Cerberus leant against the opposing wall, almost kicking his feet and knocking into West, who ran her hand through her hair in disbelief. Carolina was silent and frozen, her normal grace having disappeared, whereas Tex threw herself down next to Church, socked him in the arm before kissing him, hard. Okay, West was averting her eyes.

Giving a quiet chuckle, West joined her friends on the floor. “We… we did it. Holy shit.”

Having come up for air, Church grinned, wild and joyous, Tex’s arm hooked around his neck. “We _won. _We beat him! I can’t believe it- we’re free of his bullshit.”

A quiet sniffling drew their attention from where Cerberus had curled up against the wall, around his barely noticeable bump. “I can keep them.” He gave a hiccup, and Carolina silently sat and wrapped her arms around him. You could hear a muffled and barely there; “I’m _safe._”

West smiled, fondly, at her embracing friends. She then winced as Tex kicked her leg, none too softly, apparently trying to get Zeta’s attention. “Hey, Z. Do the others know?”

Zeta had barely flickered into view when a cacophonous rumbling of boots on metal came echoing down the hall, and the flushed and excited faces of their friends popped into view. Wash was leading, Tucker on his heels, North, South and York behind them, and the rest of the Reds, Blues and Freelancers appeared, cramming into the small corridor. Well, it just got a _lot_ more crowded.

Wash’s blond hair was sticking up in excited clumps, and he was grinning, wildly, although that dropped as he saw Carolina and Cerberus hugging. “Guys! Delta told us what happened!”

Tucker cackled, also grinning wildly. “Holy _shit, _we need to celebrate!” A short cuff around the ears by Wash made him exclaim, but he dropped the grin as Wash pointed to the four on the ground. “Hey! Oh- shit. Um, sorry about your dad?”

Church gave a suspiciously wet chuckle. "Gee, thanks, Tucker."

Carolina looked up from where she was hugging Cerberus, releasing him to stand to greet York and the others. “We _should _celebrate. Donut, do you still have your champagne?”

The pink agent clapped his hands together, excitedly, bouncing on the spot. “Oh, I have the perfect set of wine glasses I’ve been meaning to break out for a situation just like this!”

North cast a suspicious look towards the redhead. “Who are you and what have you done with Carolina?”

South just cackled, throwing a fist in the air. “Hell yeah! Let’s throw a rager!”

York moved closer to Carolina, who looked as if she was struggling to control her emotions. He touched her arm gently and drew her into a hug. “Lina?”

Her words, while muffled, were still audible. “I want to celebrate. Dad- that man- he’d _hate _it. I spent so long trying to make him proud and it was never enough. So- fuck it- let’s throw a rager. Let’s celebrate.” Her shoulders started shaking, York tightening his grip on her, looking at the now silent corridor almost defensively, daring them to say something. “It’s _over. _Why aren’t I glad about this?”

West huffed a laugh, smiling softly at her friend. “You spent a long time living like that. We all did. It’s not going to change overnight.” The medic stood with a hand from Wash, and she hugged Carolina who had pulled back slightly from York. “This is normal, Lina. Don’t be afraid to let yourself grieve.”

Carolina pulled back, wiping her eyes and looking down, but she gave a short nod. West smiled, which then widened into a grin as Carolina snorted, turning to gaze fondly at Maine and Cerberus, who were currently cuddling on the ground together. They didn’t look like they were going to get up any time soon.

A small cough drew her attention to North. “Not to be a wet blanket-“ He broke into a snort, elbowing his twin as she tried to elbow him. “But should we relocate? Maybe to someplace a bit safer?”

Wash, standing with Tucker, started to herd the Red and Blue agents towards the main hall. “Yeah, come on. Let’s go to the war room and debrief.”

South, ever loud, gave a long, drawn-out groan, only moving after a kind shove by her brother. “Ugh, that’s so _boring.”_

The brother in question grinned, enjoying the discomfort. “Too bad. Come on everyone!”

Six hours later, they were still in the war room. For a rather impromptu party, they’d done pretty well, with numerous cans appearing from nowhere, multiple bottles of unlabeled wine and a rather wide range of snacks being brought out from several hidden locations around the ship. West was honestly impressed. Everyone was well on their way to becoming well and truly pissed; granted, Carolina _had _tried to give a proper debrief – West had discovered that N and Simmons had been successful in stopping the soldiers the previous Director had called from reaching them; by both trapping some in their rooms and preventing them from reaching the armoury. They were both rather pleased, with Simmons flushing a deep, bright red from Grif’s praise that contained far too many innuendos. West would rather she forgot hearing that but no.

The other agents had reported no other problems, and Delta declared it was the best situation they could have ended up with. Of course, with all the talking out of the way, the drinking had begun. West preferring to keep a clear head had stuck to mysterious bottles of lemonade that had shown up, had remained off to the side, absorbing the scene and enjoying the chaos. Tucker and Wash were tucked away in a corner together, sharing a bottle of wine; Wash’s face was becoming an increasing shade of red, but still appeared pretty lucid. Tucker seemed further gone, but they were both leaning into each other, ignoring everything else. Caboose – with his juice, no-one was willing to give the kid alcohol – was sitting with N and Donut, animatedly discussing something with their drinks nestled in their crossed legs. South appeared to be heckling North, York and Sarge to do a drinking contest with her, to some success; North had the well-worn expression of ‘seen this shit before,’ and York was being slowly worn down. Sarge was actively trying to antagonise South, who just grinned and knocked back a drink in response. West could hear South’s hoot as her brother went to fetch some more beer, shaking his head fondly. Cerberus and Maine had slipped out together, Tex and Church leaving not long after – West supposed she couldn’t blame them. Finding the alcohol fumes a bit much for the moment, West stood, heading out to catch a quick breather.

Turns out she wasn’t the only one. Carolina was leaning against the window, staring into the vast, inky void before her, drink resting between her fingers. She didn’t seem to be drinking, more just using the bottle to keep her hands busy; she looked up as the medic approached.

West smiled, catching a smile in response. “Hey, Lina. All good?”

The other woman snorted, smiling softly. She seemed far more settled than earlier, and it was good to see. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m…not used to parties. Haven’t been to one in a while. Drinking groups, yes, parties no.”

The medic laughed, moving to stand next to her friend, who moved over to share the view. “Me too, honestly. I’m not one for drinking. Zeta’s been having a field day with all those confidential documents that the Director had and he processes stuff better when I’m not shitfaced.”

The mention of Carolina’s father slid the smile off Carolina’s face. West winced, but the woman just sighed and shook her head. “Right. Is there anything interesting?”

Snorting, the medic waved, trying to encapsulate how much. “Fuck, there’s all sorts. So, you know that drug ring? They knew about it. It doesn’t look like the Director’s responsible for it, but-“

Another slow exhale. “But he didn’t do anything about it. Of course.”

West shrugged. “Yeah, it also seemed like there was a bit of corruption with the drug ring- they were paying some of the higher officials on the ship, and we already know about the shit with using drugs to control their runners. It’s a bit of a mess.” The medic paused, before snorting. “Z says thanks for the access card.”

Carolina laughed, briefly. Well, it was better than sullen silence. She’d take it. “It’d take us a million years to sort through all of the Director’s bullshit. It’s my pleasure.” The other agent turned to face the medic, resting her shoulder on the glass. “How’s your patient?”

The medic laughed. “Which one?” Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair, considering. “Private Jones hasn’t woken up yet but it’s looking like he might soon, and Annie’s back in Recovery. She’s… she’s doing okay. I’m happy for her. She’s come a long way considering the situation she’s in.”

Carolina nodded, slowly. “The Nurse is keeping you updated then.”

West smiled, at the mention of the Nurse. She’d sent through a couple of messages, letting the other woman know what had happened- they were exchanging personal messages now as well. “Yeah, she sent through a couple of messages. How about things on your end? I noticed that you weren’t drinking much.”

The woman’s brows pinched, face scrunching up before she exhaled in frustration. “There’s so much to do- I need to fire all the soldiers that were loyal to the previous Director so there’s no risk to us. I need to ask all of the agents whether they’d like to leave or stay. I need to help you with the _drug problem _that the Director allowed to run on the ship. I need to figure out what to do with the AI fragments and- fuck- what the _hell_ am I going to do about the Alpha?” She pressed her forehead against the glass, gently, breath misting the view. “It’s such a mess.”

West paused, looking back out to space. There wasn’t much to see- they were heading to the closest civilised planet to drop their _unwanted cargo _off, as well as to refuel and restock. You see space once, you’ve seen it a thousand times. “Well, for a start, I’ve asked Z to get Delta’s help in ordering all of the confidential files- he can help with the corruption issues, I’m sure he’d be good at sorting that out. I was also thinking- I don’t think Annie's problem is going to be limited to just a couple of soldiers. There’s going to be quite a few drug-addicted soldiers on this ship. So, I was thinking I’d talk to Nurse and Doc about trying to reach out to them with a treatment program. It’s not going to catch all of them, but it’s something.” Carolina was looking at her, torn. The medic smiled, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “Also, I reckon most of us will want to stay. I will. For the AI, just ask them. See if they want to stay or leave. I’ve already asked Z and he’s happy to stay and help.”

The pinched look eased somewhat from the agent’s face, although it was still there, lurking at the edges of her expression. “You’ve been thinking a lot about this.”

West laughed. "No offence, Lina-“

“That’s never a good start.”

West continued. “But you’re the sort of person to take everything on by themselves. But you aren’t alone! We’re all in the same boat, and I bet you that everyone is going to be more than willing to help.”

Carolina seemed unwilling to meet her gaze for the moment, so West returned to look at the window. She continued softer this time. “Also. I know what the Counsellor did to everyone was bad and that sort of stuff isn’t repaired easily. But we also all went through some pretty traumatic shit, so I was thinking – to keep it within the Project – that we could start running either group or solo counselling sessions? All the medical personnel on the ship are trained in it in some way; I figured you lot might be more comfortable talking to friends rather than some random person you don’t trust.” The medic turned to look at her friend, who was meeting her gaze now. “It’s just a thought.”

Carolina smiled, slightly. “That is a good one.” West snorted, giving her a look. “What about you?”

West huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m gonna work with Z and Doc to help manage my shit, don't worry."

Carolina was giving her a stern glare before she smiled. It lit up her face, banishing the vestigial remains of the worry, at least for the moment. “Good. Don’t neglect yourself, West.”

The medic returned the smile. “We’ll get through this, Lina. It’ll be rough, but we’ll make it.” Screams echoed down the hall, sounding suspiciously like Simmons and Grif, with the faint sound of female laughter. Probably South then. West laughed, shooting a look at Carolina, who managed to pull off ‘fondly annoyed’ quite well. “Well, some of us might make it.”

Carolina paused as if deciding how to respond to the screaming before she shook her head and laughed. “Well, I better make sure South doesn’t give everyone alcohol poisoning.”

West snickered. “Best of luck, you’ll certainly need it.”

Carolina laughed, waving off the comment. With her normal grace, she was down the hall, heading towards the ruckus, no doubt intent on trying to bring _some _order to the regular chaos. West laughed as the other agent disappeared before she rested her head on the wall behind her. It was _done. _They’d _won. _Six hours later and the novelty still hadn’t worn off. Sure, there was lots to do; Z was a whirlwind of activity in the back of her mind, sorting and filing and drafting things of interest. She’d ask later. They needed to sort the drug ring out, who knew what would happen whether the agents would choose to leave or stay; fuck, Cerberus was due to give _birth _in a couple of months. It was going to fucking crazy and pretty damn stressful, but she was hopeful and the joy from her friends was infectious; pervasive. They’d be okay. Things would be rocky and would certainly be hard, but she had faith in her bunch of idiots. They certainly had a way of getting through tough and shitty situations. Now; she was going to go back in, drink some lemonade with her friends, and enjoy the moment.

With a laugh, the medic stood and headed back inside.


End file.
